


Cauldron of Dyrnwch

by MoonFox



Series: Coins Saga [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arthurian Myths, BAMF, Bromance, Myrrdin, Post-Magic Reveal, Romance, arthurian legends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 80
Words: 171,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonFox/pseuds/MoonFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of my Merlin Semi-AU Coins series.<br/>Canon until 5x04 "Another's Sorrow"  This series takes an AU twist into my own version of season five and six when Arthur and the others find out about Merlin's magic.</p><p>Searching for a cure takes longer than they anticipate as enemies and friends seek to change the course of destiny.</p><p>Reposting with minor edits from the completed story on fanfiction.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue and Chapter 1: Bedfordshire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine's sister is in trouble and his temper may cause problems for Arthur in Mercia.

_"I gave to an old chief  
_ _very great swords of protection.  
_ _Is it not I that performed the rights of purification,  
_ _When Hayarndor went to the top of the mountain?  
_ _To my deprivation, to my sorrow, sinew was brave.  
_ _The world would not be if not for my offspring.  
_ _I am a bard to be praised. The unskilful  
_ _May he be possessed by the ravens and eagle and bird of wrath.  
_ _Avagddu came to him with his equal,  
_ _When the bands of four men feed between two plains."[1]_

 

* * *

 

Clarissant brushed the greasy, soiled hair from her eyes.  The cold, iron cuff on her wrist slid and chafed.  It had weighed her arm down, and cut deeply into her skin, until it became a dull, ever-present ache. The chain connecting it to the wall created a grinding noise across the floor. Every movement was strained. Her brown eyes, once filled with a passion for life, were now dull with self-doubt and a resigned sense of fear.

She was beyond tears.

After living in the streets, following the death of her father, all Clarissant had wished for was comfort.  She assumed she had found it with a merchant's son, who was aspiring to become a noble. At first, his temper was bearable, and she naively believed he would change once they were married. After that, she felt that once he actually received his title, he wouldn't be so easily angered...it was just the stress, she was certain.

She looked back on it all now in harsh reflection. She had forsaken her only true family for the roof over her head, lavish dresses to wear, jewels at her throat and on her fingers, and food on the table each night. In the beginning, she felt it was worth the occasional slap.

Years of painful abuse at his hands, had nearly broken her. The only thing that kept her going was when she would look at the sash.  Her father's crest hadbeen embroidered in gold thread by her mother's hand on the green silk.  It had been made in a much happier time of her life, when she was swaddled in childish innocence.

In that one piece left from her family, she held some hope that someday she would be free.

Her brother had hated the man from the first moment he met Guirom. He tried to encourage Clarissant to leave him.  Still fresh from the loss of their mother, and having lived for years on kindness of strangers, had stained her. Clarissant was desperate for something more stable.

The last time she had seen her twin was just after her marriage.  They had argued like never before, and he had even threatened to kill Guirom. She disowned her brother that day, swearing to any god that would hear, that she wished she had been born an only child. In all the bickering over the years, nothing cut both of them as deep as when she said that. Immediately, she had wanted to take it back, but Gwaine just shut his mouth, turned on his heel, and walked out of her life.

A few months ago, Clarissant had thought she finally had her chance to break free from her hellish life. Guirom had been in a foul mood. Something had obviously not gone his way, although Clarissant hadn't been able to figure out what it had been.

Whatever had happened was blamed once again on her. His breakfast had been cold...or, too hot. His clothing had not been laundered properly, or he had seen her talking to the maid, and distracted the girl from her duties. Sometimes, she thought that he believed she controlled the weather.

After years, it hadn't mattered what the reason was. Although, until that night, he had never touched her face. Others would have asked questions, or realized she was not the perfect wife on his arm.   Guirom's pride wouldn't allow them to believe otherwise.

He had come home and found her curled up asleep with the sash.  The beating was unlike anything she had taken from him before, and he had ripped the last remnant of her family out of her barely-conscious hand before he headed out to his favorite brothel.

Later that night, curled up on the floor next to her bed, she had jumped in fright hearing the sound of someone approaching. Through blackened and swollen eyes, she had blearily made out the slipper-covered feet of a woman in front of her. The woman's voice had been kind and matronly, as she took Clarissant's arm and led her out of the house.  She had claimed that Clarissant would never again have to endure such abuse.

Guirom was dead.

Clarissant's heart had soared with relief, and she had passed out in the woman's arms.  When she awoke, she had screamed upon realizing she had traded one prison for another.   She had been bound in chains to a wall, and another man's head was resting atop her husband's body.

It had been days, or even weeks, and she had become accustomed to this new life of hell.

Bran looked up from his sword practice. "I thought I told you to keep reading?"

Clarissant sighed silently, and turned to the next page of the book. Bran had told her, that he would be meeting her brother soon. It seemed that Gwaine was actually looking for her. She sent out a prayer to anyone who could hear, that Bran's words were true.

 _"Abiding in heaven was he, my desire,  
_ _Against the eagle, against the fear of the unskillful.  
_ _I am a bard, and I am a harper,  
_ _I am a piper, and I am a crowder.  
_ _Of seven score musicians the very great enchanter.  
_ _There was of the enameled honor the privilege.  
_ _Hu of the expanded wings.  
_ _Thy son, thy barded proclamation,  
_ _Thy steward, of a gifted father.  
_ _My tongue to recite my death-song.  
_ _If of stone-work the opposing wall of the world.  
_ _May the countenance of Prydain be bright for my guidance.  
_ _Sovereign of heaven, let my messages not be rejected."[1]_

 

That evening Bran left, and had locked her in one of the dungeon cells with enough food and water for a week.

 

* * *

 

**Chapter One: Bedfordshire**

 

Moans of pleasure came from nearly every corner of the building on the outskirts of town. Following a very boring day of treaty negotiations with King Bayard, Gwaine -- knight of Camelot, grandson of King Lot and sometimes, more than others would like, drunkard -- found himself in one of the rooms.

The knight's companions were just down the street, enjoying some gaming at a local tavern. He'd gotten bored with the drinking.  After a little encouragement, he and a couple of the others had decided to wander down the road to this establishment.

He laid back on the bed in anticipation. The woman wasn't the most pleasant to look at, but his focus wasn't on her face as she straddled him. Unfortunately, she seemed a bit too talkative for his normal liking.  He began tuning out her incessant chatter, until something she mentioned caught his attention.

She rubbed herself against him. "Is that your sword?"

Gwaine grinned lustfully, not realizing that she was referring to his actual sword, hanging on the bed post.

"I used to have a belt like that."

"Like what?" His voice was husky and deep.

She moved her hips, causing him to groan. "The green, silk one -- wrapped around your sword."

He caught her arms, stopping her motion. His dark brown eyes narrowed into slits. "What did you say?"

The wench looked at him innocently, surprised by the sudden change in his demeanor. "The cloth tied to your sword. There was a fat, ugly man in here awhile back.  He gave me something like that as a gift, but what would I do with it?" She giggled flirtatiously, tracing the outline of his muscles with her fingertips. "It's not like I wear belts."

Gwaine shoved her off of him. "What did you do with it?"

She sat back on the bed and pouted, "I sold it."

"Tell me who gave it to you!" He ordered, while furiously pulling up his trousers.

"Some fat little lord.  He used to come in here quite regularly. Guirom...or something.  'Said his wife was throwing it away."

"Where can I find him?" Gwaine growled through his teeth. If there was one thing he knew of his sister, she would die before throwing such a treasure away.

The wench actually looked a bit frightened by the murderous glare he was giving her. "Lives towards the east side of town, from the way he talked."

The knight quickly finished dressing and threw a couple of coins at the woman.  He grabbed the rest of his things, before he bolted out the door.

The woman smirked as she dressed, knowing that the dominoes had begun to fall. No one paid her any attention, as she made her way into the darkened street outside.

 

* * *

 

Gwaine rushed out of the brothel and down the street.  He pushed his way into the tavern where some of the other knights he'd journeyed with to Bedforshire were gambling and drinking. After a quick glance around, he spotted Merlin and Percival sitting together at a table.

Arthur couldn't refuse staying in the castle when King Bayard had offered, but he had encouraged his men to go have a relaxing evening on the town.

Merlin noticed Gwaine's distressed state immediately. He grabbed Percival and moved through the room toward their friend.  

Gwaine motioned them both outside and snarled, "He's here." 

"Who is?"  Merlin asked, before it dawned on him who his friend was referring to.

Brown eyes darted around to make sure no one was listening. "Can you use your magic to help me find him…and Clare?"

The warlock pursed his lips nervously. If it had been anyone else asking, Merlin's answer would have been an immediate 'no.'  However,  it was Gwaine.

The number of times over the years that the rogue prince had accompanied Merlin on fool's errands at the drop of a hat, held a lot of weight. He knew he owed his friend and nodded reluctantly.  "Go have one of the others run to inform Arthur, then catch us up."  He told Percival.

Gwaine breathed a sigh of relief. "I know he lives on the east end of the city.  So, that's where we'll be looking."

Percival grunted and rushed back into the tavern to pass on the message.  

He managed to join them as they passed the wall separating the nobles' estates from the rougher part of town they had just come from.

Merlin asked Gwaine for the silk cloth.  Hooded eyes glowing briefly, as the spell came to his mind. He held it reverently and started making his way between the stately mansions.

The spell he had cast allowed him to feel a change in the sash if they neared any person who had ever touched it...like a mystical divining rod. He didn't want to tell Gwaine that chances were they wouldn't find anything, and the murderous gleam in his friend's eye made Merlin almost hope for that.

Turning down one last street, Merlin stopped.  The street was shrouded in shadows, cast from a few braziers that glowed low at this late hour.   He glanced around cautiously...something tingled in the back of his mind.  Merlin could sense powerful magic nearby. 

"You got something?" Gwaine inquired hopefully.

 "I'm not sure." Merlin stated, blinking his eyes rapidly. "I think it's something else."

Out of the gloom, between two of the houses, stepped a man in a green cloak.  His face was hidden by the cowl, pulled low over his eyes.

Gwaine's eyes shot open when he spotted the crest of his sister's husband stitched to the shoulder of the cloak.  Before his friends realized it, Gwaine was rushing the man.  His fist connected with the face under the cloak and knocked the man to the ground.

Percival was quick to react.   He raced after Gwaine and pulled him backwards; straining against his raging friend.

Merlin stood in shock.  _This is wrong,_ he thought to himself.

They watched the cloak man rise from the street.  He wiped his lip with the back of his hand; the hood never falling off his head.

"Gwaine, dear brother-in-law.  It's been a long time," the man said, with a laugh.

Gwaine struggled against the large knight, trying to break away. "What have you done with her?!" His yell echoed through the dark street.

"Why should that matter to you?  She's  _my_   wife."  The other man baited.

Merlin noticed that Mercian Guards were looking down the lane toward them.

One of them turned and went running, presumably in search of reinforcements.  Meanwhile, the other began heading straight to their location.

Gwaine had ceased struggling, unable to escape Percival's grasp.  He had noticed the guard, as well.   Giving a nod to Percival, he felt himself being released.

Once free, Gwaine took one of his gloves.  He threw it on the ground in challenge to the man in front of him.   Guirom wasn't a knight, but it was the only thing the rogue prince could think of to legally put his sword through the man's gut.

The green-cloaked figure picked it up in acceptance. "What are your terms, Sir Gwaine?"

"I win...I get my sister, Guirom," he growled.

The man thought it over.

More guards were making their way down the street. Residents of the neighborhood began peering through slats in windows, curious about the late-night commotion. "...And if I win, you forget you even have a sister.  Plus, compensate me for the trouble you are causing."

Merlin's eyes widened, he finally realized something. Although concealed by the cloak, the man before them did not appear to be the glutton Gwaine had made him out to be. Instead, he moved with the grace of a skilled fighter, almost cat-like, and Gwaine was the mouse he was toying with.

Stepping closer to Gwaine, Merlin was shocked to feel himself pulled backward.  Arthur barely glanced at Merlin as he passed and moved toward Gwaine.

The king was livid.  His breath heaving with exertion, obviously having run straight from the castle. "I'm canceling this duel!"

Gwaine protested, "So, I'm just supposed to let him get away with whatever he has done to my sister?"

"Get ahold of yourself!  We are visitors here...and the treaty is tenuous enough as it is."  He muttered to his knight.  "What has he done?" Arthur  implored, hoping to have something solid to go on.

Gwaine looked away, unable to answer his king.

The man laughed, "Ah.  Needing your king to protect you?  How precious."

Arthur took a breath to steady himself. "I ask that Sir Gwaine at least be allowed to visit with his sister."

"After ambushing me like he did? No, she is my _property._ " He responded maliciously, knowing full well his use of words would rile the knight even more.

Gwaine reached for his sword.  

The gathered Mercian knights had all reached for their own blades.  The tension in the air was palpable.

Merlin was instantly beside his friend, with his hand on Gwaine's hilt. "What about a duel elsewhere? If Gwaine wins, you at least allow him to see Clarissant and let her choose if she goes with him." He suggested as a compromise.

Guirom chuckled, "Tell me when and where."

"The Perilous Lands.  Three days hence." Gwaine huffed.

Merlin and Arthur's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. As of yet, that part of their journey was still kept secret. The king's face was flushed with anger, while his cousin's went pale at the thought.

"Very well.  I shall meet you there, Sir Gwaine." The cloaked man stated with amusement. He turned and stalked away through the crowd, disappearing among the spectators. 

Arthur grabbed Gwaine by the collar of his shirt.  He spun his knight around and marched the other direction. The others from Camelot fell in behind them.

Merlin paused, casting a final glance around, he needed to tell Arthur that he was getting a very bad feeling from all of this.

 

* * *

 

"What in the  _hell_  were you thinking, Gwaine?" Arthur shouted, amidst his pacing.

They had finally made it back to the castle where Arthur hauled the hot-headed knight into his guest rooms. Percival stood blocking the door, while Merlin leaned against a bedpost with his arms crossed. Gwaine sat in a chair, his head hung between his knees.

"We are visitors here! I don't care what you think that man did!  That is no reason to go off and start a fight!"

"This is about my sister, you wouldn't understand." 

Arthur stopped, "Understand? I have a sister too, Gwaine, and you know what she's been through." Arthur's face was flushed with anger. "I know you want to try and help her, but this was not the way. And now, on top of it all, everyone knows where WE. ARE. GOING!"

Merlin drew an audible breath, shaking his head. The king turned to him questioningly. "Would you actually listen to me this time if I said I had a bad feeling about all this?"

Arthur paused, his head tilted off to the side. "Yes, I would listen. But, that doesn't change the fact that _you_ are the one who said we needed to go there."

Percival finally spoke up. "Maybe this isn't as bad as it seems.  I was trying to figure out how to get the other knights to return to Camelot without them wondering why we weren't going with them. Now, we have an excuse."

The king flopped down in the seat next to Gwaine and sighed, "Well, at least that's something."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] The Death Song of Uther Pendragon, The Book of Taliesin XLVIII


	2. Opening Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game begins, as they reach the bridge into the Perilous Lands.

 

A giant game board laid in front of her. All the pieces had faces that she recognized.

Arthur was the King and she saw the large knight, Percival, standing in the corner in the position of the Rook.

She smiled upon seeing Merlin as the Bishop. It fit. He always seemed to be going at an angled position where the others had to make moves that were more or less straight. Although, Gwaine was obviously the Knight.  He was always jumping over things and moving in odd directions.

On the other side of the board, was a sight that made her flinch in terror. Morgause stood in the position of the Queen, with an evil smirk.  Beside her, was a man who appeared to be a Knight who she did not recognize.  He was dressed all in green, and seemed to stand apart from Morgause.   

On the Queen's other side was her King.  His face was shrouded in fog, and for the moment, he seemed inconsequential.

There were others both familiar and strange on all sides.  Most, however, were simply Pawns in the upcoming game.

However, watching from the shadows beside the board, were two figures. One was rather short, and she had no recognition of him at all. The other one was a tall, stately woman in red.

Suddenly, the Green Knight advanced on Gwaine and they came together in a clash of steel. The Green Knight got the upper hand and looked ready to chop off Gwaine's head. when Morgana woke up screaming.

 

* * *

 

"He believed you were his brother-in-law?" Morgause asked, still unused to the even tone of her new voice.

The girl's body she now possessed had not grown up shrouded in rooms and caves, filled with the constant burning incense, as the priestess had been.  Her new voice was soft and tender.

Bran let out with a guffaw.  "T'was easy with that temper of his. He blinded himself in his rage. He never even saw my face."

"...And did you convince them to come here?"

"Actually, it was Gwaine's idea." Bran's eyes narrowed in contemplation. He wasn't a man to look a gift horse in the mouth, but even to him the situation appeared rather too convenient.

"Good. I'll go make sure your plaything has been moved to the seaside castle.  Then, you can meet them in the Dark Tower."

"Be gentle with her." Bran warned. There was still a small spark of fire in the captive woman.  He found no personal attraction in her, but his honor as a knight demanded she not be mistreated.

Morgause eyed him warily. "Have you grown fond of her?"

 

"No.  I just don't think it would do to have her spoiled in case things go wrong." He responded callously, not wanting to give the witch anything she could twist. The fact was, after centuries of solitude, he had warmed to Clarissant's voice.  If for nothing else -- just to be able to hear another living person speak.

 

"My dear Bran, what could go wrong?" Morgause replied in a voice that was too cocky for her own good.

 

* * *

 

They had ridden hard to reach the bridge, after leaving King Bayard.   The Dark Tower rose from the Perilous Lands like a dagger, off in the distance.

Percival had convinced the rest of the knights to turn back on his suggestion. Although, they had argued that King Arthur should have more protection.  In the end they were able to see it would be a good diversion.  One of them would pose as the king, which would give the real king a chance to pass virtually unnoticed going the other way.

From their vantage point on a high ridge, it did not appear as the forsaken place it had before.   The landscape had subtly changed since the last time Gwaine, Merlin, and Arthur had been here.

Their plan was to make it to the bridge before nightfall and meet with Grettir as they had promised.  Then, set out in the morning for their journey into the wastelands.

"Ah! There you are, and I see Rectitude has joined you. I had begun to wonder when you would show up." The dwarf called out in a cheery voice. Grettir smiled and leaned against the railing of the bridge. "Come, have a seat and rest for the evening."

"Hello, Grettir. Sorry I missed you after the feast in Camelot." Merlin returned the smile.  He held out his arm to the fellow magician.

"Please sit.  Have some food.  My cooking pot may appear small, but it is always full for those who are hungry." He waved his arm towards his campfire and a pot of delicious smelling stew appeared.

The four men accepted the meal graciously and sat down to tuck in.

Finally, Arthur posed the question they were all curious about. "Grettir, tell us about the Perilous Lands. Last time through, I was in a bit of a hurry."

"There are many things I can tell you, some of which you know, other things you couldn't even begin to dream of. I have been the guardian of this bridge for nearly a thousand years.  It would help, perhaps, if you could narrow it down. Else, I might start speaking of things that have no bearing on your quests."  He looked to each of the men.

"I am interested in the idea of restoring The Five Kingdoms of old." Arthur mentioned, curious about the age of the short man.

"I heard about a magical cauldron and the last known place of its existence was at an ancient castle here,"  Merlin added.

"I'm here to fight for my sister," Gwaine grumbled.  His sword arm itched to meet with his brother-in-law, once more.

Grettir looked at Percival questioningly. "A kingdom for Courage, a cauldron for Magic, and a princess for Strength. Tell me, what is the purpose of Rectitude?"

The large knight had just shoveled another bite from his third helping of stew into his mouth. He glanced around nervously, realizing the dwarf was referring to him.  He swallowed the entire mouthful. "I'm just along for the food. This is good."

They all shared in a laugh, and Grettir beamed at the compliment. It wasn't very often he received a chance to entertain. Most people either avoided the forsaken lands altogether, or were in too big of rush on some quest. He could hardly resist the chance to have a bit of fun at his company's expense.  

"It appears there are many things drawing you to this place, how curious."  Grettir's face took on the look of introspection momentarily. "Well, for the first two -- I need to tell you my story."

Grettir's eyes flashed and the stew pot disappeared.  The flames in the campfire began to dance and weave as the dwarf began speaking.

"I was young once... if you can believe that...long before there was even the thought of five great kingdoms of Albion.  The land was filled with magic."

The fire roared and figures began to appear, outlined in reds and oranges.  A small village filled with small people.  

"I had a family, children, and a wife. I wanted to be a great sorcerer, and as chance would have it, so did the fates. Much of the region had been plunged into war.  The great castle of Tir Asleen was cursed to remain frozen in time, while an evil queen attempted to take over all the known lands. She had found a great cauldron and a spell to give her immortality."

"Ceridwen's Cauldron?" Merlin asked curiously, remembering what the red dragon had told him.

"That is just one of its many names." Grettir explained.   He smirked and directed the fire to change with his hands.

"A prophecy spoke of a princess, born from magic, whose blood held the key to it all. As it happens, my children found the girl child in the river, and that is where my story begins." He smiled as he remembered that time. "With the help of some unlikely friends we were able to rescue the child, defeat the evil queen, and free the king and queen of Tir Asleen from their frozen state. I returned home as a hero and a true sorcerer.

"Years passed and the princess grew up.  She married the son of my friends.  In order to keep the cauldron safe, Princess Alura needed to bind herself with it, and thus bound her own children, and the rest of her bloodline.

"I offered myself to be bound, as well.  To help protect the kingdom from those outside who sought the cauldron, which brought me here, to the only bridge into the lands."

"If you are bound here, how did you show up in Camelot?"  Merlin shook his head in confusion.

"An old friend helped me out." The old warlock mentioned offhandedly, brushing off the question.  He continued on with his tale. "Nearly five hundred years ago, King Pelles was among those who formed the Alliance of the Five Kingdoms from his castle of Corbenic."

Arthur and Merlin both nodded at recognition of the name.

"He had two children: a son and a daughter. He arranged an agreement to strengthen the Five Kingdoms -- not only their ties to each other, but also to bring in the kingdom of Iverni, ruled by Matholwch."

"Iverni...that's one of the kingdoms of Ireland, correct?" The young warlock inquired, recalling a brief conversation with a druid near his home about the region and its people.

"Indeed."

"Where is that?" Percival asked, curiously.  Although, he had traveled as a knight, he hadn't experienced much beyond the borders of Camelot.

Merlin answered, not realizing he was drawing away from the intended story. "It's said to be a large island north west of the coast, near Snowdonia."

"Oh, it's an island. So, you have to cross water to get to it..." Gwaine eyed Merlin evilly. "...In a boat."

Grettir bit back his amusement when Merlin glared at his friend.

He continued on with the story. "King Pelles offered his daughter in marriage to the King of Iverni.   King Matholwch came to claim his bride, but during the wedding there was an attack and Matholwch's horses were slaughtered.

"Attempting to make amends, Pelles' son offered the cauldron to Matholwch, not realizing what it truly meant for his family. Matholwch took his bride and the cauldron, and left.

"Pelles was wounded in the battle and without the cauldron he was unable to heal.  So, he cast the most powerful spell he could find -- something to keep him alive in hopes he could hunt down Matholwch and steal his cauldron back -- but, while he lived, his wound never healed. It festered and the more he tried to stave off death, the more life he sucked from the land around him.

"The Fisher King!" Merlin said, excitedly.

"Exactly." Grettir beamed at the way Merlin had put the pieces together.  "His son, realizing what he had done, went on a quest.  He took hundreds of the knights with him to retrieve the cauldron and his sister.

"I do not know what happened, but when they returned they numbered only seven men.  With them, they carried the prince's head. By that time, it was already too late for Pelles to undo what he had done. So, the Fisher King lived with his spell, too weak to undo it, until the land became a mere shadow of what it once was."

"Until we came and I gave him the Eye of the Phoenix that drew the life out of him...instead of the land."

"Eye of the Phoenix?" Arthur queried.  Something tickled in the back of his mind, and he was curious what his cousin was talking about.

Merlin looked away guiltily and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh yeah, the bracelet Morgana had given you before your quest."

"Is that what happened to it?" Arthur asked angrily. "So, you're telling me he was still alive when I came for the trident and you gave him a gift that had been given to me?"

"It was sucking your life Arthur!"

"But it wasn't yours to give." The king stood up, towering over Merlin fiercely.

Gwaine was roaring with laughter as he recalled the quest.

Percival mused innocently.  "If it was killing you, why are you arguing about it?"

"It's the principle of the matter!"

"Hey Merlin, can your..." Gwaine made the hand motions and 'oohing' sound he'd started using to describe his friends magic. "...take care of the 'pheasants?'"

The warlock bit back a smile. "Um, yes.  How do you think we managed to get away from them last time?"

"Wait... What pheasants? I do not recall any birds the last time we were here, much less, pheasants!" Arthur argued, clearly confused.

"They were the big scaly kind."  Gwaine explained.

They could see Arthur's mind working. Finally, he sat down, realizing they were referring to the wyvrens. "Oh."

As amusing as the three were, Percival saw how far off track they were getting. "So, what happened to the cauldron? Did the Irish king still have it?"

"That I do not know. There was a bard with Prince Bran, perhaps he left something in the way of books behind. For now though, you should all probably rest."  He said.   Bringing his hands together, the fire retreated to its normal size.  "When you set out tomorrow across the bridge, I will care for your horses until you return."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor x-over here with Grettir's history – some of you already have a hint of this from the previous story. I seriously just couldn't stop myself. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Since this is the only bit it's used in, I didn't want to call the whole story a x-over. For those who don't know, it's from the movie Willow, which stars Warwick Davis (the same guy who played Grettir in Merlin and also Professor Flitwick in Harry Potter...and in the Leprechaun movies among other things - do you sense typecasting as a magic user?) Like Merlin, I don't own Willow either. :(
> 
> On a legendary note: some of the history was also taken from the story of the Fisher King and Bran the Blessed of welsh legends...but, as usual twisted for my own fan fiction ends.


	3. The Green Knight

" _MERLIN!_ Do something!" Arthur's sword was swinging and connecting with the flesh of the dragonkin.

"I'm trying!" Merlin spat.  He stretched out his arm toward more of the advancing wyvrens. The words of the Dragon Tongue crossed his lips, and the winged creatures balked.  They continued to circle from a distance, but refused to leave.

Gwaine and Percival managed to take down a large, aggressive beast, giving the four men a clear shot toward the ruined castle. They took off in a dead run for the relative safety of the walls, just to have something at their back for defense. Finally, when they reached the arched portcullis, the four men stopped for a moment to catch their breath.

"Pheasants? REALLY?"

"Come on, I was being sarcastic. You didn't have to taunt them with it!"  

"Both of you give it a rest!" Merlin bit out.  He he leaned against the wall, panting heavily. His mind was mulling over the encounter.

_They had crossed the bridge early that morning as the sun rose.  Grettir was nowhere in sight._

_The first part of the day had been relatively uneventful, as they navigated their way through debris in the rancid swamp.  By midday, however, was when things got dicey. As they reached the edge of the swamp and paused to rest, dark spots began circling in the sky._

_A high-pitched screech had set all four men on edge.  Merlin looked up to see a swarm of wyvrens in the sky.  T_ _hey reminded him of a flock of vultures, ready to bear down on the men from Camelot._

_He could make out at least ten, but his senses told him there were many more. He cried out for them to desist and flee, as he had done before.   The creatures paused, but in his gut, the sinking feeling that always accompanied some form of crisis, took shape._

_"See. Merlin can take care of them." Gwaine patted his friend on the back good-naturedly._

_It had appeared to work for the moment, until Arthur decided to open his mouth. "I always knew you were good for something.  Not much mind you, but at least, something." He smirked and turned from his cousin, brandishing his sword at the creatures. "That's right, you dirty pheasants.  W_ _e have a Dragon Lord! Just try and take us on now!" When he turned back to his companions, even mild-mannered Percival was glaring._

"It had worked the last time.  Why wouldn't it have done the same now?" Gwaine argued, getting into Arthur's face.

"Because Merlin is as useless a cousin, as he was a servant, is my guess."  Arthur stated, partly  in jest.

"Well, if you hadn't opened your mouth and jinxed us, like usual..." The warlock shot back.

"Enough!" Percival roared. The other three turned to look at him and Merlin gave him a nod of appreciation.

"Are you injured?" He asked, noticing a line of blood across Percival's bicep.

Percival followed Merlin's gaze down his arm. "Just a scratch.  It won't stop me."

"Let me put some salve on it. To stave off any infection."

After tending to the wound, the four of them moved cautiously into the courtyard. Merlin looked up and gasped.

"Bloody hell." He heard Gwaine mutter.

Along the turrets and walls surrounding the courtyard were the wyvrens.   Some were pacing, while others simply sat and stared.

"What are they waiting for?" Arthur asked nervously.

"Probably for me..." The Green Knight stood just outside the main door to the keep. "...to be finished with this duel.  So, they can feast on your bodies."

Merlin opened his mouth to say something and was cut off by Arthur growling out the side of his mouth. "Shut up, Merlin."

The man seemed larger than before, as he stood across from the companions. His hands rested casually on top of the shaft of a massive, two-handed battle axe. The cowl of his green cloak was still pulled down low over his face.

Gwaine's hand immediately went for his sword. "What have you done with Clare?"

"She is safe for now. Shall we begin, Sir Gwaine?" The cloaked man picked up the axe with apparent  ease and spun it in his hands. "Unless, you would care to forfeit?"

An eerie silence seemed to descend on the courtyard.

Gwaine readjusted his grip on his weapon and pulled his shield from off of his back. He looked at Guirom's axe, then down at his shield. One good hit and the shield would be toast. If his opponent was skilled enough, then his arm underneath it wouldn't fare much better.

A thought tickled at the back of his mind.  He glanced back up at the man in green, and began to wonder.  

Guirom had always been soft around the middle.  His pampered lifestyle only taught him  how to bully those weaker than himself.   While he might have been able to afford an axe and a sword, Gwaine would have never imagined the man to be comfortable sporting them around.  

Gwaine knew that years could change a person.  He had himself as proof of that, but still...something wasn't right.  Then, he realized -- he'd yet to see his brother-in-law's face.

Bran could see the thoughts play out on roguish man's face.  If he wasn't careful, he could lose the advantage. The witch had promised him his pick of the four companions, if he succeeded in this duel. 

He cringed underneath the cowl, as he warred with himself.  Centuries of being alone and without a body had taken its toll on his mental state.  He craved for body that would take him away from the torment.  Morgause had given that to him, but it wasn't enough.  Bran desired something better.  

Shoving his honor aside, he called out to Gwaine.  "I can't wait to go tell your sister what a weak fool her brother is. Perhaps, I'll have to make her pay for your cowardice."

The questions fled from Gwaine's mind.  Throwing down his shield, he rushed his opponent.  A scream of rage tore from his throat.

Merlin was shocked at the raw emotions from his friend.  His gut instinct was to join with Gwaine in the fight, but Arthur's arm shot out to block him.

"This is a knight's duel. You will stay out of it." He warned his cousin.

"But, Guirom isn't a knight!" The warlock protested.

Arthur glared at him. "It doesn't matter. He accepted the duel knowing the rules. The Code must be respected."

The two men came together.  Bran easily sidestepped the knight's first swing and brought the broadside of his axe across Gwaine's back, nearly shoving him to the ground.

Gwaine spun back around.  The sudden, near miss caused him to focus.  He realized that the fight wouldn't be as easy as it first appeared. The man he thought to be his brother-in-law moved with the grace of a fighter that had trained his entire life. Snarling and crouching low, he held his sword parallel to the ground and began to circle.

They exchanged a few blows, toying with each other;  each trying to get a measure of his competitor.

Gwaine began to smile. He could tell Guirom was beginning to weaken with each swipe and block, although neither had yet to land a serious blow. "Your weak, Guirom. You should just admit defeat now and tell me where she is."

Bran growled low in his throat, silently cursing the body. In his time, he had been known as one of the greatest fighters to ever walk the world. He swung his axe in a circle above his head, and brought it down in a mighty slice, meant for Gwaine's midsection.

Gwaine easily danced  out of the way.  His sword came up and caught the backside of the axe. It took more effort than usual against the heavier weapon, but he managed to wind his blade around the shaft, and twisted it out of his opponent's hand.

Unfortunately, he lost his grip on his sword in the process.

Both men paused, weaponless.

Bran grinned and drew his sword.  Ceasing the advantage, he pressed towards Gwaine.

The knight ducked and rolled out of the way.  His hand managing to grasp the shaft of the fallen axe, as he came up behind the green-cloaked man.

Taking it in both hands Gwaine came up swinging.  He connected with the back of his enemy's neck. The head easily separated from the body and rolled away.  

For a moment, the body remained standing, before it finally fell forward onto the ground.

Gwaine dropped the axe and wiped his brow with his arm.  Stepping over the body, he spat on it, before he retrieved his own sword.

He eyed the surrounding wyvrens warily, as he made his way back to his friends. The creatures didn't make a move towards them.  Although, they appeared to be getting antsy.

"Good fight." Arthur complimented his knight.

Gwaine nodded, "Now I just have to find my sister."

"Um…" Percival's eyes were wide. He swallowed nervously and pointed behind Gwaine. "Maybe we could ask him."

The others looked just in time to see the body stand up and move toward the head.

Swords were raised, and Merlin shot his hand forward, ready with a spell.

They watched in fascination and awe as the two parts became whole again.

"Thank you, Sir Gwaine, for such a welcome exertion.  It has been a long time since I have experienced such a fight."

"What the hell! Who are you?" Gwaine demanded, his sword pointing menacingly at the man. "Where's Guirom?  And, where the hell is my sister?"

Merlin wasn't completely surprised at this turn of events. He actually found himself more curious about the magic used to keep the head and body together.

"What's left of Guirom is here, standing before you, as a gift from my benefactor. I had thought you would be pleased to find out such an arse had been dealt with.  No honorable man should do what he had done." Bran stated, clearly in agreement with Gwaine about his former brother-in-law. Reaching into a pocket he drew out a ring and tossed it to Gwaine, "Your sister is perfectly well. A bit distraught by everything that has transpired, but she is alive."

Gwaine caught the ring.  It was the match to the one he had owned, along with the chain and crest that had been stolen in Ismere. "I won the duel. Now, give her to me!"

"Sadly, I'm not certain that my benefactor would agree with our terms. I have her word that she will release Clarissant, if I bring her your head.

"It disturbs me to have deceived you in such a manner, but I must do as I am bid.  Meet me in the castle due east of here on the coast,  three days hence.  There you will see that your sister is well.  If you allow me to take your head at that time, then I will release her to your friends.

"You have my word, as Prince Bran of Corbenic, First Knight of the Fisher King."

"Gwaine…" Merlin said cautiously.  He hoped his friend would think the situation through.

"It's my sister, Merlin. I have faith that you'll get me out of this." He gave his friend a wink, and turned back to Bran.  "Done.  But, if you double cross me, I will take your head and burn it."

"Agreed." Bran offered them a sweeping bow, picking up his axe in the process, and then backed into the doorway behind him.

A cry from the walls reminded the four companions of their predicament. They rushed toward the door of the keep, just as the creatures began to descend.  They barred it behind them and realized Bran was nowhere in sight.

 

* * *

 

 _"I am not a confused bard drivelling,  
_ _When songsters sing a song by memory,  
_ _They will not make wonderful cries;  
_ _May I be receiving them.  
_ _Like receiving clothes without a hand,  
_ _Like sinking in a lake without swimming  
_ _The stream boldly rises tumultuously in degree.  
_ _High in the blood of sea-board towns.  
_ _The rock wave-surrounded, by great arrangement,  
_ _Will convey for us a defence, a protection from the enemy.  
_ _The rock of the chief proprietor, the head of tranquillity.  
_ _The intoxication of meads will cause us to speak."[1]_

 

"I think your friend who wrote these had a bit too much mead himself.  Either that, or he was clearly not sane to begin with." Clarissant rolled her eyes and muttered more to herself than to Bran.  She was completely caught off guard by his sudden laughter and Clarissant stared at him, unsure of what to do next.

Other than having her read to him, Bran had mostly ignored her.

Initially, Clarissant had tried to get a reaction out of Bran, but he seemed able to detach himself from emotion as easily as he could his head. The first time she had seen him do that left had her trembling.  Now, she was beginning to become accustomed to it...as she was to him.

Bran's books had become an outlet for her dark confinement. When he had shoved her in the cell alone, Clarissant found herself missing the chance to read them; whether it was to him, or just to herself.

She recalled the way her heart had jumped, hoping to see him when she had heard someone enter the dungeon where he put her.    Then, it had sunk upon seeing the woman.

Like a scared animal, she wouldn't look into the woman's eyes.  Nodding mutely, she followed Morgause to another castle.  One moment, Morgause gave off a matronly air and was sickeningly sweet.  The next, she was spiteful and her words dripped like venom.

When they reached the other keep, Clarissant had been shoved roughly back into another cell...this time without the provisions Bran had initially left for her.

When Bran had finally arrived, he hadn't appeared concerned at finding Clarissant like that.   Although, she could tell that something had changed.  He had argued with Morgause, just outside of Clarissant's hearing.

The evil woman had glared at Bran before she stalked off.   He had then moved Clarissant back up to one of the rooms, where once again, he had attached her chains to the wall and bid her to read.

She was brought back out of her musings when he finally spoke in a distant voice. 

"He was fully sane at one point, but not when he was writing these books…The methods he had used to save my life had taken a heavy toll on his mind."

She found herself suddenly curious about her capture and his life before. "Tell me about him."

Bran stared out the window and looked as if he might actually share his story, but quickly changed his mind. He shook his head. "No, your brother will be here in the next few days. I have made an arrangement with him. I will let him see you before I chop off his head. Then, you will leave with his friends, and we will both be free of the witch." He turned and left the room, leaving Clarissant alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1]From one of the Books of Taliesin - I have read so many that I can't remember which one I copied that one from.


	4. Meddling with Dragons

Growling and snarling could be heard through the door, as darkness fell. The four men had tried to settle in for the night, but rest seemed hard to find.

After their dash across the courtyard, Merlin had tried once again to turn the wyvrens back, but the sheer numbers overwhelmed him. He would no sooner order one away when there was another to take its place. They had counted almost two dozen.  Although, the constant moving of the creatures as they fought amidst themselves, made it hard to accurately count.

With magic and might, they had barred the door as best they could.   All that was left was to hope that they survived until morning.

Merlin sat with his back to the wall, staring at the conjured fire in the center of the room. Gwaine was the first to doze off, exhausted mentally as well as physically from the challenge of the Green Knight.  Percival soon followed suit.

The warlock was sifting through his memories, trying to recall anything like the man, who could attach his head to a body that was not his own.

He wished he would have had a way to access Geoffrey's library.  He'd managed to bring one book and two map scrolls; each holding references to ancient kingdom of Corbenic.

When Arthur actually carried his own gear instead of forcing it upon others, Merlin suddenly wished he had brought at least one more book for himself.

He smiled, thinking about the last ten years...what he had lost and what he had gained.  There wasn't much else to do in an abandoned keep surrounded by wyvrens.

Merlin's thoughts wandered to Lancelot. _If only his friend could see him now._  He stifled a chuckle, imagining the smile of pride as he congratulated Merlin on finally being acknowledged.

"What's so funny?" Arthur asked quietly. The king was trying to rest, but had only succeeded in counting the chipped stones that were in the nearby wall.

Merlin shook his head. "Just thinking."

Arthur rolled onto his side facing Merlin. "That is always cause for concern with you." He got up and moved closer. "Might as well tell me, since you woke me up."

Merlin's brows pinched together. "You weren't asleep."

"That's not the point."

"Alright." The dark-haired man said, "I was thinking about Lancelot." He studied his cousin's face as he said the name.

Merlin could see the thoughts playing through the king's mind. Part of it remembering the man he had knighted; the other part feeling the sting of betrayal after Lancelot's return.

Arthur finally nodded for Merlin to continue.

"Just wondering what he would think if he saw me now."

"I know the two of you were close." Arthur said.  His feelings for his lost knight were still a jumbled mess, even after so long.

"He had figured out my magic, when we went against the griffon. That's why he refused to stay...he didn't want to take credit for it. Lancelot's sense of honor wouldn't let him."

"If only his honor would have followed him back from the grave." The king responded, referencing the night his world had come crashing down.

"That wasn't him." Before Arthur could question, Merlin continued, "That was a shade...a likeness of him that Morgana had created...summoned specifically for the purpose of thwarting your wedding day.  And before you ask why I didn't tell you...just think about it.  Would you have believed me back then? Other than Lancelot acting a little odd, the only proof I had was based in magic."  

"What about Guinevere?" Arthur finally asked. While he had moved past the event, and forgiven his queen, the memory still stung.

"Morgana had made an enchanted bracelet, meant to enhance the feelings for the one who gave it to her. I didn't even realize that part until...well, until just before we freed Morgana."

"That's how you knew to destroy Morgana's bracelet?  Because such a thing had been enchanted before?"

Merlin nodded.

"I have to say, it makes much more sense now. When we return to Camelot, I want you to take me to where you laid him to rest, and we can discuss this further."

"I will." He said, patting Arthur on the shoulder.  It was a great relief to have another secret revealed. They didn't speak for a while, each lost in his own thoughts. The sound of the wyvrens outside appeared to have subsided for the moment, as well.

"How was she, when you left? I know I asked briefly before, but well, now you have time to elaborate."  Arthur had been worried about Morgana's state of mind, after all that she had been through. 

Merlin smiled, "She was good. Much better than she had been, especially during that first week."

Arthur was giving him a curious look. The corner of his mouth twitched, "She's one of the girls who rejected you, isn't she?" When Merlin didn't answer, Arthur pressed him further, "Was it just before you left, or what? Come on, Merlin, you can tell me."

"After the ball, I went and found a scrying basin."

"You went to find a crying basin? I know you can be a bit of girl sometimes…"

"No, a _scrying_  basin, you prat. It's a blessed dish or something with water that allows you to view other places. But, it takes a lot of energy, and I pushed the limits to be able to actually speak with her...which is why I wasn't around to say goodbye to everyone."

Arthur gave him a concerned look.  Merlin just brushed it off in his usual fashion, by completely ignoring the worried gaze.  "I told her about what had taken place:  that Lisanor, Cai and Bedivere were back in Camelot.  She made some comment about Cai, so I told her I escorted Lisanor to the ball."

"And?"

"There was something in her voice. So, I asked if she was jealous…I was kind of hoping she was. Not that I wanted to make her jealous, but…"

Arthur chuckled and patted Merlin on the shoulder. "Relax, I understand. You wanted to see if she felt something for you."

Merlin pursed his lips and nodded, "Anyway, she said she wasn't and teased me about my lack of dancing skill.  Asked how many of Lisanor's toes I had broken. Then, she said 'I miss you, my _friend._ '  After that, the conversation was pretty well done."

Arthur tried not to laugh.

"What? Is my love life really that big of a joke?"

"Oh, you are daft!"

Merlin looked at Arthur, completely confused.

"If there is anything that I remember about her, is that when she is truly upset, she will make a snide comment.  Usually it involved some sort of damage, Since she asked if it was Lisanor you had injured...it means she really did hope you broke her toes.  That way Lisanor wouldn't have anything more to do with you. And then, if Morgana can, she will get out of the conversation quickly.

"Trust me when I say that it is for the best, because if she cannot -- that's when the fireworks start. The next time you see her, she will be wearing something that pushes the boundaries of decency and start flirting with someone else...preferably someone she knows might irk you...in retaliation."

Merlin felt a headache coming on.

"By the way, what happened with you and Lisanor? It appeared as if the two of you got along well, and…her boy really appeared to be opening up to you." Arthur was still uneasy acknowledging the young man.

"I thought things were going well. It was so uncomplicated between us, even though it had only been a few days. Until all that stuff happened with Leon and you.  I used my magic in front of them and it scared her." Merlin shrugged, not knowing a better way to explain the situation. "She didn't feel she was 'strong' enough for me after that...whatever the hell that means."

"Ah." The king nodded, as if he needed no other explanation.

Merlin sighed.  He pulled up his knees, resting his arms and chin on them as he watched the fire.  "Times like this, I miss Freya."

Arthur blinked and turned on the warlock. "Who the hell is Freya?"

Cringing, Merlin remembered that Arthur had been unconscious when the Lady of the Lake appeared on the battlefield. "She was my first love.  She died many years ago." He hoped his cousin would leave it at that, yet somehow he doubted that would be the case.

 

* * *

 

The water's surface was like glass; a perfect window reflecting the moonlight and the bare trees above it.

_Plop._

A single teardrop hit the surface, and ripples formed across the water.  After a few moments it stilled, becoming a mirror to the night sky again, just in time for another tear to roll off the pale cheek.

A soft cooing sound brought Morgana out of her reverie. She gazed longingly into the basin inside the stone circle. She had been sitting in the grass for hours, after witnessing the battle between Gwaine and the cloaked man.

Through the scrying basin, she had also seen a woman -- hidden on a wall near one of the towers.

Surrounding the courtyard had been wyvrens, and in the woman's hand was a stone that had pulsated with dark colors. Each time one of the creatures seemed ready to fly down at the men in the courtyard; the woman's eyes would glow, as would the stone.

It was the dark eyes, however, filled with hatred and a lust for vengeance that Morgana had ultimately recognized.  

Gasping in fear, she nearly broke her connection.  It took all of her strength to continue watching.  It was obvious from her somewhat omniscient view that each casting upon the stone was draining on the woman Morgana had once called sister.

At the end of the duel, when Gwaine's opponent rose and retrieved his head, Morgana turned her attention back to Morgause. Pure terror coursed through her when the eyes of her sister looked up.  A disturbing smile played on her face.   They looked directly at Morgana, as if knowing she was watching. Morgana's hand had slapped the water and broke the spell.

Aithusa nudged Morgana's elbow compassionately.  The soft voice of a little girl spoke inside Morgana's mind. "Why are you sad?"

Morgana put her arms around the young dragon's neck. The white dragon was almost twice the size she had been, and her scales now shone with an opalescence gleam. "I'm sad because I can't help them from here.  Somehow, Morgause was reborn. She has a stone that is controlling the wyvrens and if they can get past the creatures, Merlin and the others will be walking into a trap."

"...And, you miss him." Aithusa sighed and lowered her head into Morgana's lap, "I miss my egg father, too."

"Your 'egg father'?"

"He gave me my name." The dragonling responded as if that explained everything.  "He was supposed to teach me things after I hatched, but then I found you because he was busy.

"After that we were captured by Mordred." Morgana recalled.  The memory of waking up healed, with a dragon the size of a cat smiling at her, was one of the few clear memories she'd had during the last seven years. "I can't bear the thought of losing him. I wish there was some way I could tell him what I see, and how much he means to me."

 Aithusa perked up and cocked her head to the side. "Why can't you?"

"Unless he is looking for me, I don't think I can.  The last time, I was a wreck after it happened." A thought suddenly dawned on Morgana. "Can you take me to him?"

The young dragon sat back on her haunches. "No... The Lady told me I was not to let the Dark Spirit near you, or let you go anywhere." She gave Morgana a determined stare.  

Aithusa's eyes began shifting back and forth. She lowered her head and turned from side to side, the scales on her neck undulating as she moved. Morgana could see a conspiratorial smile form on Aithusa's mouth. "I can go tell him. The Lady said nothing about _me_ staying away from it all."

"You naughty little girl!" Morgana chided, but was grinning in delight.

Aithusa spread out her wings and bounced excitedly. "I'll tell him the Dark One is controlling the others and that it's a trap."

"How about if I write you a note to take to him?" Morgana pushed to her feet and started toward the keep.

The wind buffeted around her as Aithusa took flight. "No time!  If I want to make it to my egg father by morning, that is.  I'll tell him exactly what you said, including that you miss him and love him."

"What?! No, Aithusa, you will do no such thing!" Her raven hair cascaded around her face, as she shook her head rapidly.

"Sorry, I can't hear you over the wind!" Morgana felt the voice in her head giggle as she watched the white form fade away.


	5. Ketchup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys receive some unexpected assistance.

 

"We should really try to rest and figure out what we're going to do in the morning," Merlin commented, attempting to distract Arthur from asking any more about Freya. All Arthur had managed to pry out of the dark-haired man was that she had been a druid, and it had happened around eight years ago.

"What did she look like?" The king refused to be turned from his current line of thinking.

"What did who look like?" Gwaine's voice suddenly piped in, startling the other two. Unnoticed, he'd woken up and rolled over, his head still using his arm for a pillow as he began to listen to their conversation.

"No one."

"Freya." Arthur responded at the same time.

Gwaine was grinning, "I wouldn't mind hearing more about her myself."

"You knew?" Arthur found himself feeling a bit of jealousy that his knight seemed to know more about Merlin than he did.

Merlin groaned, "Fine.  If I tell you, then will you get some sleep?"

Both men nodded eagerly.

"Well, too bad." Merlin began rifling through his pack.  He pulled out a leather scroll case that held the crudely drawn map of the area. With a charcoal pencil he started marking the areas they knew, and looking at how far away the coast was.

Realizing they were being ignored, Gwaine laughed, "You're never going to tell anyone about her, are ya?"

"Nope." He continued to draw in the approximate edge of the swamp, and where the ancient road that led to the keep used to run. "Do you think he was serious?"

"Who was serious about what?"  Arthur rolled his eyes and pouted.   Merlin's change of subject gave a clear signal that his questions about the girl would go unanswered.

"The man Gwaine fought today.  Do you think he was really the Prince of Corbenic? The one Grettir told us about."

 Arthur shrugged and laid down. "I suppose we shall find out soon enough."

"You have a plan?" Gwaine asked hopefully.  Despite their history, he was willing to do whatever it took to save his twin.   Although, being separated from his own head was not his first choice of potential outcomes.

Merlin sighed and packed up the map. "Gwaine, I don't even know how we're going to get past the wyvrens yet."

Standing up, Gwaine moved to the barricaded door.  He listened for any movement from the outside. "Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll be gone. Get some rest. I'll keep watch for a while."

* * *

The rusted hinges on the ancient door squealed in protest.  Percival winced at the sound, as he attempted to open the door carefully.   He stuck his head out and glanced around the courtyard.  The twilight of the predawn made it difficult to discern individual threats, but he could see the darkened shapes of many of the wyvren.  They were sleeping restlessly in piles throughout the courtyard.

Drawing himself back in, he shook his head.  "I don't see any way to sneak past them all."

Merlin ducked under the larger man's arms to look out.  "I'll go first and draw them away.  Then you three make a break for it and head east. I'll circle back when I can to catch up."

"Not going to happen." Arthur was glaring at Merlin.

"I've got my magic.  I can control them...to a point," he whispered impatiently.

"Merlin, it's suicide!" Gwaine added, brushing the hair out of his face.

Percival shook his head.  "I can fight them off. I'll be the bait."

"None of us are going out there alone." The king argued, his voice began to rise.

 "It's the only way we have a chance!" The warlock spat back.

Arthur pursed his lips.  Deep down he knew that Merlin was right, but his honor as a knight refused to let any of them face certain death alone.

"We may not have much of a choice now." Percival's eyes widened, after another glance outside.  The gathered flock of wyvrens were starting to stir.

Merlin checked the ties on his pack, as Percival and Arthur continued to survey the courtyard through the cracked door.

Gwaine gave his friend a disbelieving glare.  He rolled his eyes in frustration when Merlin smiled and shrugged.   He knew nothing he could say would stop the determined warlock. Merlin mouthed a 'sorry' at his friend, to which Gwaine responded with a reluctant nod of acceptance.  

Merlin pointed to Gwaine, and then Arthur.  Grumbling silently, Gwaine agreed to the half-baked plan.

When Merlin was set, Gwaine inhaled deeply and rushed at Arthur.  He pushed the king into Percival and knocked them both away from the door. With the path suddenly cleared, Merlin's eyes glowed to create the time shift around him and ran out before the others could even blink.

Halfway to the main gate time caught up with him and he paused, calling out in the dragon tongue to get the attention of the creatures. The creatures woke and the courtyard became a cacophony of noise; clambering over one another as they fought against the Dragon Lord's order and their desire to eat him.

Merlin high tailed it the rest of the way across the courtyard toward the portcullis. He took a moment to glance back at the doorway and could see Arthur struggling against the two knights.

As more of the creatures dropped into the area, Merlin steeled himself for the run out into the open. Just outside of the gate a white form, the size of a large warhorse, darted through the opening.  A column of flame hit the closest wyvrens and scattered the creatures.

He let out a whoop of relief once he recognized the young dragon. Aithusa circled a few times and chased off the remaining wyvrens, before landing in the middle of the courtyard with a look of smug satisfaction. The flames quickly died down and Merlin jogged towards his unexpected savior.

"Look how you've grown!" He exclaimed with a wide grin, wrapping his arms around the dragon's neck in a hug. "Not that I mind the help, but what are you doing here?"

She leaned into the embrace eagerly, speaking into his mind. _"I came to find you, Morgana sent me."_

"Morgana?" Merlin questioned, suddenly nervous.  He pulled back from the young dragon. He could see his companions were cautiously making their way out into the open and motioned them forward. "Is she alright?" 

Aithusa looked them over and seemed to smile at Gwaine. _"He is the one who stayed with me, until the Lady came to take me."_ Her voice was soft, like a bashful child. _"Tell him thank you for me."_

A concerned look passed over Merlin's face. "Can't you speak yet?"

She glanced at the ground and sadly shook her head. _"Only with magic. The Lady had to leave before she taught me."_

"I see," he said, wondering if it had anything to do with when he called the red dragon to help with Leon and Arthur. The little dragon was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to pass on her message. "Gwaine, Aithusa wants to thank you for staying with her." 

The knight nodded and bowed smile. "T'was a pleasure.  Thank you for your assistance with the wyvren."

"Now, is Morgana alright?" Merlin asked, turning back to the dragon.

_"Um, I was supposed to give you a message."_

"What was it?"

_"Um…"_

Merlin raised his eyebrows.

_"Um…"_

Merlin crossed his arms and sighed.

 _"I forget."_ Aithusa hung her head, ashamed that her young mind refused to remember the missive.

He could feel her disappointment in not being able to recall the words.

 _"She wanted to write a note, but I didn't think there was time. It was a good thing, too. I flew as fast as I could to get here to help you. If I had waited, you might have been... crunchy.*"_  

"Crunchy?" The Dragon Lord smiled in amusement.  He took her beautiful, white head in his hands and touched his forehead to hers. "It's alright.  Just calm down."

She pressed against him, warmed by the comfort he gave her. After a few breaths she popped her head up, managing to knock Merlin's nose.  _"I remember!"_ She bounded away, skipping and hopping in glee.

Merlin blinked, his eyes going crossed in pain, and brought his hand up to his face. He was thankful to find that it was only sore, not bleeding or busted. He could vaguely make out the sound of snickering from the three men nearby.

 _"She said she misses you, and I think she loves you!"_  Aithusa giggled, _"Oh! And she's been having dreams...and she looked into the waters...and she got scared...and something about a stone, and…and… a game!"_

"A game?" His eyes were watering still from the hit to his nose, the first part of what she said not yet registering.

_"No, wait!  The game was from her dream on a different night.  Not part of the water, or what I was supposed to tell you. Um… I probably wasn't supposed to tell you the love part.  That's a secret. So, don't tell her I told you."_

"Okay...wait, what? Love?" His confusion grew, before he turned beet red when the words finally sank in.

The others stood off to the side, only able to understand Merlin's side of the conversation. They shared a look between them, wondering what the dragon had said to make Merlin blush.

"That is such a wonderful shade of red. I wonder what, or _who_ , could cause such a thing."  Arthur crowed while watching his cousin's discomfort, he jabbed Gwaine with his elbow. 

Aithusa looked innocently at the king.  Out loud, she said in a raspy voice. "Morgana."

"Shut up, Arthur." Merlin warned, before the king could respond. "Aithusa, back to the dream.  What was it?"

Aithusa stopped and sat down, looking to the sky while she thought.  _"It was a game, and you were all there...and she said the Lady was there, and someone short -- like_ really  _short."_

He bit the insides of his cheeks. There was only one 'really short' person who he knew of.  If Grettir was a part of all this, it wouldn't surprise Merlin.  The older the magic user, the more riddles and deception seemed to follow. He was going to have to sit the dwarf down for a nice, long talk on his way out of the Perilous Lands.

 _"Oh!"_  In a continuous breath, Aithusa began to speak rapidly.   _"The-dark-spirit-she-used-to-be-that-used-to-be-her-sister-until-you-got-it-out-is-now-someone-else-and-has-a-stone-to-tell-the-mean-little-non-dragons-what-to-do."_

His mind tried to piece together the words streaming through his head.   There was only one 'dark spirit-sister' who Merlin knew about.  "You mean Morgause?"

Even Arthur stopped his snickering, when Merlin said the name. He became keenly interested in whatever the white dragon was telling her Dragon Lord.  

Merlin turned to Arthur, his face now pale. "Aithusa is saying that somehow Morgause is alive...and is controlling the wyvrens."

"Beautiful." He responded dryly, throwing his hands in the air. "Knowing our luck, this entire affair is a trap she's set for us.  If we continue to this seaside keep, we might not only be facing Bran, but her as well."

" _I can fly and scout out the keep for you, Egg-Father. I'm good at finding things."_ She spread her wings, at first appearing to be ready to fly, but it soon turned into a stretch accompanied by a yawn.

Merlin gave her a tilted grin. "What did you just call me?"

_"Egg-Father.  Since you are the one that hatched me, but it is rather awkward.  Can I just call you Father?"_

He felt his eyes misting from something other than his still sore nose. _"I'd be honored."_  He said into her mind, not wanting to hear the others tease him about something so special. "I'm not sure I want you getting involved in this any more than you already are. If there really is a stone that controls the wyvern, I can't be sure it wouldn't do something to you as well. Do you think you can fly a little ways?"

She nodded, sleepily.

"Aithusa, are you sure?"

_"Yes, I think so."_

 He could sense her exhaustion, but he wanted to her out of the Perilous Lands.  "Good.  Then I want you to fly to the forest's edge, northwest of here. There is a bridge crossing a gorge from these lands into Mercia.  On the other side, there will be a man named Grettir. He's short, like the one from Morgana's dream.  Tell him I want him to look after you until you're rested, alright?"

 _"Then, I'll come back and look for the trap."_ She flapped a couple of times to get airborne.

"Promise me, you will do no such thing!" Merlin called after her.

 _"Fine.  I promise."_  Her young voice was heavy with attitude, as she flew off.

Merlin's eyes followed her disparagingly. Gwaine threw his arm around Merlin's shoulders as they watched the dragon disappear. "Ah, kids.  Whatcha gonna do, huh?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for thou art crunchy and good with ketchup." (It's an old D&D saying and I had the hardest time not actually adding in the ketchup part to the end of Aithusa's line hehe)


	6. Check

Grettir watched the young dragon sleep. Although she was a dragon, her innocent and altruistic desires reminded him of his own daughter...lost to him long ago.

He felt honored that the great Emrys sent her to him for protection. He did have to wonder why such a young one would be anywhere near the Perilous Lands and the whole mess that had been created. Before she had fallen asleep, he'd managed to find out how Emrys and his friends were fairing.

While he watched over her, his thoughts led him back to another dragon --a great creature he had not seen nor heard from in nearly five centuries. She had been one of the oldest dragons he'd ever known, from a land that no longer existed.  He never doubted that she was still alive somewhere.

Only a few of months earlier, he had been sure he'd felt her laughter rolling across the land. It was only a matter of time before she sought him out.

As if on cue, he felt the weight of the powerful aura enter the forest. Quickly, he cast his most powerful concealment spell over Aithusa, and moved over to his cooking fire.  He settled in just before a lady clothed in red stepped into the small clearing by the bridge.

"Hello Grettir," her voice crooned, thinking she had caught the dwarf off-guard.

He looked up, surprise well in place on his features. "My Lady, it has been far too long!... Or perhaps not long enough."

"Hmph! King Lludd made certain I would be out of the way for quite some time." She found a fallen log across the fire from him and sat down without being asked. 

"Please, join me," Grettir offered with a hint of sarcasm.  He waved his arm and a chess board appeared between them. The pieces were already set for a game in progress. "My Lady, I have been waiting a few centuries for your next move."

She smiled patronizingly at the short little man. "Perhaps later. Have they passed through here already?" She asked, referring to the men from Camelot.

He considered playing ignorant, but knew she would see through it.  "They have.  A couple of weeks ago I heard rumor that someone..." He leveled a glare at the red dragon. "...Had shown up in Camelot posing as me, and invited them to come this way."

The smile plastered on her face dimmed slightly, though she refused to admit anything.

"I'm certain you had nothing to do with it." He smirked knowingly.

The ancient creature was the picture of innocence. "I am hurt that you would even imply that I would do such a thing."

"Remember what happened last time you tried to mold destiny, dear friend? This time, you may have overstepped. I think reviving that dark spirit was a bit much, don't you?"

"Her part in the end of this has been made clear to me." She glanced away with a scowl.

The dwarven sorcerer knew he hit a nerve, but was a bit taken back at how raw her tone was.

"Kilgharrah thought I was dead. He took it upon himself to see that the prophecies were followed...adding in a few interpretations of his own. Then, he foolishly fell into the mortal king's trap.

"Instead of accepting his circumstance and waiting for destiny to come about, he wrapped an impressionable young Dragon Lord around the tip of his tail to do his twisted bidding. Thanks to his meddling, fate was set in motion before it had a chance to mature.  Everything we have sought to build was nearly lost!"

Grettir had never seen the Red Dragon so wound up. It amused him to see her so out of character.  He had to hold his breath, while biting his tongue to keep from laughing out loud, as she stood up and began pacing.

"There were supposed to be four sons of four different kings. Now, thanks to Kilgharrah there are only three. He had convinced one to sacrifice himself, while trying to save the Dragon Lord from becoming a martyr.  It was his own advice to Emrys that put the events in motion for Morgana and her sister to tear the Veil in the first place.  This was before he had a clue about his true parentage!*   All I have done has been to ensure that the remaining three reached these lands together." She stated, not quite confessing to appearing in Camelot using the dwarf's likeness. "On top of that I have to keep leading that foolish witch along, while using her sister as the proverbial carrot."

Grettir finally couldn't contain his laughter. "Where one goes the other two will most likely follow.  Bringing Morgause back from the dead was unnecessary, if that is all you needed her for. Unless, there is something else you are neglecting to mention?" He cocked his head and gave her a curious look.

"How was I to be absolutely certain they would all journey together?" She purposefully dodged his question and sat back down, rather ungracefully, on the log.

"You could have asked me." Her dismissal of his concern left a bad taste in his mouth. "You dragons think too much; plan too far ahead.  Most of what you sow, you fail to reap because by the time it's ready you're off with other things... or captured by kings." He knew the last part would sting and rile her even more.  There was so much more going on, he could feel it.

The Red Dragon's eyes narrowing at the small warlock. "I could swallow you without a thought, if I so wished."

"Well then, you'd be in for one hell of a belly ache, My Lady." He chuckled wondering if there ever would come a day she would make good on the same old threat.

Closing her eyes, she composed herself. For an awkward moment, she studied her fingernails thoughtfully.  Grettir could sense she was still put off by his casual demeanor. "This other one, Percival...his part in all this still eludes me." She looked down at board and finally decided to move her queen.

"Maybe he's just along for the ride." The dwarf suggested.  He added an insinuating edge to his voice, just for the fun of it.

He played a dangerous game of words with the ancient dragon.. Truthfully, he really didn't know anything about the large knight.  Nor did he care to toy with the webs of fate and destiny...but it never hurt to make a dragon think you had more information than they did.

She gave the dwarf an incredulous look. "Why is it that I don't believe you?"

Grettir shrugged and decided to move on to another subject. "Oh, I did hear another rumor about a certain…rock, with _special_ properties... resurfacing recently. But, of course you are too busy with 'setting things right' to worry about any type of stone." He turned and glanced over his bridge casually.  In a very soft voice he added, "...even a Dragon Stone."

He was quite pleased with himself for the reaction he managed to get from Red, it wasn't easy to shock a creature that claimed to be nearly as old as the world.

She stood up suddenly, towering over him.  Flames nearly leapt out of her eyes. "Where is the Dragon Stone?"

If the warlock feared her, he didn't show it. His eyes were wide with feigned surprise when he turned back to her. "I thought you had given it to the witch.  She's been using it to control the wyvern into attacking the men from Camelot." Grettir could feel the heat coming off of the Red Dragon in her fury and wondered if perhaps he had pushed her too far.

"Morgause has it? Who gave it to her?" She snarled.

"Well, don't look at me.  It's not like _I_ can go anywhere." He grumbled, letting her know that he still suspected her as being the one to appear in Camelot.

Watching his own lines of destiny, he had known to expect the four men. However, when Merlin had mentioned missing Grettir after the feast, it taken all he had to keep a straight face.  He managed to evade any more questions about his appearance with a story...until he made a mistake in saying that he was bound to the bridge.

He had then managed to narrowly sidestep Merlin's question by stating that he'd had help.

At the time he had already been suspicious, but even without her confession, he was fairly assured that it had been the dragon.

Not for the first time, he began to wonder just how deep into all this she really was. He was curious if she even recognized it herself. He decided it was time he excused himself from the conversation.

"Maybe you should check with whoever helped you resurrect her? Or, perhaps she is just clever enough to find it on her own?  Doesn't it just irritate you when unexpected surprises like this pop up?" The dwarf smiled spitefully and cast his magic about.  He faded into the shadows of the forest; the campfire and the game board disappearing with him.

The Red Dragon stared at the vacant space.  Flames of anger rolled over her skin. Casting her own spell, she transported herself away in a huff; sending debris from the forest flying into the air.

Once Grettir was certain the dramatics were over, he released the spell of concealment on himself and the white dragon. He was surprised to see the young one awake, and looking at him with sorrowful eyes.

"You were listening."

Aithusa hung her head and sighed, _"I thought the Lady was good. Why would she do all these things?"_

"Ah, she means well, child. Don't worry yourself too much about it. It is extremely difficult for one as old as she is...and who can see as much as she can...to keep from doing what she thinks is best despite the consequences. Now!" He rubbed his hands together impishly. "How about we play a game of sounds? It seems to me you should have a voice and no one has taught you how to use it yet."

She perked up at this, but then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Aren't you too busy, like everyone else?"

Grettir spread his arms wide and grinned, "I sit around and guard a bridge that very few people ever cross, as I have done for far too long. I have plenty of time to teach you whatever you wish to learn, darling." He leaned toward her mischievously. "I can even teach you some magic, if you like."

Aithusa was smiling and bouncing around happily. Grettir glanced down at the chess board, and the full realization of the Red Dragon's move hit him.  He wondered if it had simply been a mistake made in her duress.  He was an opportunist, however, and not above taking advantage of the situation.   His eyes glowed as he castled his rook and king. "Check."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Just a fun note about some of my research for this fic.
> 
> Lancelot was supposed to be the son of a King Ban who was run out of his kingdom in the literature, and while Lancelot's mother Elaine is tending to her husband- baby Lancelot is stolen away by the lady of the lake. (Elaine is also the name of the woman who Lancelot sleeps with thinking he's sleeping with Guinevere and that Elaine gives birth to Galahad... which is also supposed to be Lancelot's name when he was baptized... or something. *starts singing 'I'm my own grandpa'* )


	7. Chains

It was well into the second day and they were nervous. The sun beat down on the dunes, as they drew closer to their destination.

The first day, after Aithusa had chased off the wyvern, they set out from the castle of Corbenic.  Occasionally, they saw the wyvren flying above them, though not in the numbers they previous had...and then, a few hours later, there was no sign of them at all.

"What type of game is Morgause playing at?" Arthur mused, as they stopped for the evening.

"I wish I knew. I don't have a clue how she would have been able to come back in the first place."

"Whatever is going on, I'm just glad we're not running right now," Gwaine laughed.

"Hey!" Percival called from on top of one of the dunes, pointing to the east.

In the distance, they could see the crumbling walls of black stone that stood out on a rocky cliff above the sea.

"That looks to be a few hours walk.  Let's continue to make camp and we should be able to reach it before midday tomorrow."

* * *

 

Consciousness came back to her slowly. It was an extremely odd sensation for her, one that she vaguely recognized. Opening her eyes, she almost expected to find herself back in the cavern, curled around a pool that sparkled with moonlight. Instead, it appeared she was in a dungeon. She could hear and smell the sea through the small opening near the ceiling; barely large enough to allow some airflow, but nothing more.

Her normally sharp mind was muddled and foggy.

Attempting to sit up, she realized another new sensation...that of being restrained. Her torso and arms were bound with a thin, silver chain.

She almost laughed at the pitiful effort.  Chains could never keep one as powerful as she was hostage for long.

Her eyes glowed with fire, as the she cast a spell, while at the same time using her strength to push out against the chain. Confusion came first, followed by the restraint tightening across her chest.  The first hint of fear began to creep in.

"Do you like the chain? It's my own enchantment that I perfected over the years. In fact, there has only been one person to ever escape from them, though I know not how.  I have made some improvements since that time, specifically for you."

The Red Dragon looked up and her eyes narrowed at the priestess. "I brought you forth, Morgause.  When I am free, you will learn your place." The ancient dragon cast another spell ordering the binding metal to release.  She felt circulation to her arms being cut off, as it tightened again.

Morgause laughed, her eyes dancing in malicious delight. "Keep resisting, My Lady. I quite enjoy seeing you suffer."

The priestess then withdrew a sphere of stone from her cloak.  Colors swirled under the polished surface; alive and dancing with fire. She noticed her captive watching it cautiously.

"Do you like it? One of the Sidhe gave it to me.  It seems they stole it from a Dragon Lord centuries ago. They explained that it holds the soul of one of the first Dragon Lords, and when focused properly, it can be used to command of any dragonkin.

"I hardly dared to believe it, when it actually controlled the stupid beasts outside. Then, when you showed up, imagine my surprise to find out it worked on you, as well. "

Morgause turned to leave, locking the gate of the cell behind her. "Oh, and if by some remote chance you do manage to escape the chain, remember it is I who controls the Dragon Stone, and I will make certain you do not forget that."

The Red Dragon struggled into an upright position, cursing her human form.  She leaned against the wall, as the memories of how she found herself in this predicament came flooding back to her.

* * *

 

 _"Let loose the hounds of war. Let the dread fire of the last priestess reign down from angry skies. For brother will slaughter brother. For friend will murder friend. As the great horn sounds, a cold dawn at Camlann. The prophets do not lie. There Arthur will meet his end, upon that mighty plain."_ *

She looked around the battlefield. It certainly was not Camlann. Here in the meadow vales below Snowdonia was where the once and future king nearly met his fate.

If Emrys had not wakened her, the time of Albion would have ended before it had begun.

Mordred, a druid boy, was meant to kill Arthur. That much remained true, but the soul had already fled the young man's body for the afterlife. The Red Dragon was reluctant to make the sacrifice to call it back.  A complete resurrection from an unwilling soul could upset the balance, even more than it already was. His sword, still coated with the poison he had meant for Emrys, laid all but forgotten on the ground next to the druid's corpse.

The impulsive manner in which events had transpired...the frustration Emrys had expressed about continuously being urged to 'kill the witch' and 'kill the boy'...it all reeked of Kilgharrah.  For a dragon, he was the most impatient of her kind she had ever known.

She sighed heavily, recalling that even when he had hatched, he had pushed his way out of the shell, before the Dragon Lord had even finished saying his name. Over a thousand years of life behind him, and Kilgharrah still had not learned his lesson.

Fog had begun to crawl its way up through the valleys, followed by low-hanging clouds that were fresh from the bay and filled with the promise of rain.   The hillside was crawling with scavengers, but soon the water would wash away the blood that stained the ground.

The Red Dragon sat in her human form, with the sword laid across her lap. She'd nearly forgotten how much she had missed this simple body. In this form, it was difficult for even the mightiest of Dragon Lords to command her without the knowledge of her true name.  When King Lludd had attempted to imprison her centuries ago, he had been unsuccessful at first.

How he had come to possess the stone would always be a mystery to her. It had amplified his own innate abilities.  Lludd had ordered her into the cavern and to return to her dragon form, where she had slept restlessly until Ambrosius had come into the picture.

He was a Dragon Lord descended directly from King Lludd.   Only recently had he been introduced to his son, Balinor.  Upon their victory, he had gifted the keep above her to his son.

Ambrosius had woken her from the agitated nightmare that plagued her captivity, and all that she had asked of him was to allow her a peaceful slumber.  He had granted her wish, and in return she told him of the prophecy of the coming of Emrys and the Once and Future King.

Like all humans and their egos, Ambrosius had believed the divination to be about himself, as the druid tribes had called him Emrys. He had been such a kind man for a warrior and a king.  She hadn't had the heart to tell him otherwise.

Years passed and Balinor had returned to her as a Dragon Lord, after his father had succumbed to poison. He had offered, as his father had done, to free her.  Yet, after he had described the new king, she had decided she would rather sleep for another five centuries. The Red Dragon could feel the time of Albion drawing near in the young man, but it had still been part of the future, not the present, and so she waited.

Then one day, she had felt _him_. It had been eons since she had first known him in lands that no longer existed; the lands of the first men and the first dragons. He had finally returned, reborn as part of the prophecy, and asking for help to save a dragon child.

She sat on a field soaked with blood, knowing that all she had seen in her visions had been nearly destroyed. She had been immensely grateful for the brave knight who had stood up and declared his love for his king above all else; offering himself in the king's place. Arthur, the Once and Future King, was saved, and the Red Dragon needed to find a way to set right all that had gone wrong.

When the first drops of rain began to fall, she had felt the calling -- faintly at first and then more desperate, as the rains grew heavier.

It had been the mother of the druid boy.  A dark, evil spirit of a priestess that had recently been torn out of the flesh of her sister.

Despite the dragon's own misgivings, she acted before all traces of the woman had been washed away. There had been enough death on the field of battle to pay for the life she would grant.  Mixing the rain, ash, and blood, the dragon had sent her magic into the spirit; guiding her to salvation in the form of a Sidhe elder. It had been one step in a very long process, where so much could go so very wrong.

The Red Dragon hadn't truly understood just how demented the priestess had been. When she had suggested to Morgause that she needed to find a way to ensure all the men came to the Perilous Lands, little did she realize how far the woman would go to make it happen.

The men were supposed to assist Bran the Blessed, not fight him. Distracted at that time by helping Aithusa regain her health after the cruel imprisonment, she had returned to find Bran's head on a dead man's body.  When she had seen the girl cowering in a corner, the dragon began to suspect where Mordred had inherited his disposition.

She began to doubt her choice in using Morgana as an incentive for the priestess, especially since the dragon had no real intention of allowing the crazy witch anywhere near her sister.

Cracks had begun to appear in Emrys's mind, as he had pushed himself to the limit trying to reach out to Morgana.

Lisanor, a simple human woman, had been a grounding force for the powerful warlock.  The only part she played in destiny had been to give the king a son.  However, their growing affections helped cement a way to protect the boy, as well.

When Morgause had questioned the reasons, the Red Dragon had lied to the witch.  

She had to laugh at herself, as she realized how out of practice she really was, when it came to playing both sides.

It had been too close for comfort when Cai's love for Leon, like a fairy tale, had nearly broken the curse; almost sending Emrys to the brink again.

"There are too many things that can go wrong with this, Dragon Lord." She had quietly admonished Merlin, when he had re-entered the sacred space.  Arthur and Leon laid side-by-side in the temple.  The knight appeared much as he had for weeks, held by magic on the brink of death, while Arthur thankfully had been saved once again.

"I thought this would be safer for them. Was it the temple or Sir Cai's magic?" He had asked, feeling guilty about his hasty decision to move Leon.

She had not answered him directly, and just let him assume it could have been magic.  "He is not to enter here again, while the knight is kept in this place. The energies of the area will strengthen the curse and hold it for as long as need be, but he must have no contact. He understands that now, as well."

"The destiny we have been working for is at hand, and yet it is teetering on the brink of collapse." She had paused, "Did you give Kilgharrah my message?"

"I did...and he burst out laughing."

Those were not the words she had wanted to hear. Her nostrils had flared, "Well, I suppose I shall be paying him a visit soon."

The 'visit' had turned into more of an argument from the start. Each had defended their own interpretation of the prophecy.  Kilgharrah had stood by his decision to move things along, attempting to sway her with riddles and nonsense. He had laughed uproariously at her attempts to 'correct' the situation. By the time she had left him, she had been truly in a foul mood.

She had then decided to pay a visit to another old friend and assess the progress of the men.  She was determined to prove to the other dragon that she was right, although Grettir's news about the Dragon Stone had only made the entire situation worse.

In hindsight, the Red Dragon realized she should have thought things through a bit more before confronting Morgause.

She vaguely recalled sending a mental wave against the wyvrens, before she had been hit by a blast of magic.  

It had been foolish to believe that the stone could only be used by a Dragon Lord.  Yet, Morgause had found a way to focus her own magical power through the stone.

Under normal circumstances, human magic couldn't penetrate a dragon's defenses.  Only the voice of a Dragon Lord could bring the great creatures down.  

Dragon Lords held a special kinship to the great creatures, and even Lludd had respected her enough to simply confine her. The Red Dragon held out no such hope of such compassion from the witch, as she felt the chain around her tighten with every attempt to break them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *from Ep 5.10 because I figured the prophecy was floating around for a while, I might as well use it.
> 
> My theory is that the chains, similar to the ones used on Merlin in 3.1 can only be removed by an external source (such as Kilgharrah) and not by the one bound. And since they were specifically enchanted by Morgause, it makes sense that she would use them again.


	8. For His Sister

The next morning when they had awoken, they saw the silhouettes of wyvren circling in the air above the seaside keep.  By the time they had reached the keep, the wyvrens had mysteriously disappeared.

Merlin felt a chill run through him.  His eyes searched towering walls of black stone that loomed before them.

The portcullis stood strong against the gray, flat stones and surrounding dunes.  Down each way that Merlin looked, he could see the wall crumbling from erosion. He closed his eyes, stretching out with his magic. The wyvrens, edgy and eager, were hidden all around them. He sensed Morgause and the darkness within her, but her presence was clouded by the ghosts that had haunted this castle from generations long turned to dust.  It strained his concentration to track each of the shadowed souls that danced around; through a place that in life they had called home.

Suddenly, he felt as if someone had kicked him in the diaphragm. All the air blasted out of his lungs and his eyes shot open.  He grasped for the ability to focus. "She's in there."

Gwaine had his sword in his hand, just as Prince Bran appeared beyond the gate. "Good, then I'm going to kill that bastard!" He took off running, but as Gwaine neared, the other man darted into the courtyard and the Knight of Camelot followed blindly.

"Gwaine, wait!" Merlin called, trying to catch his breath, but the hot-headed man was beyond hearing.  "I meant the Red Dragon...not his sister. She's in there!"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Arthur spat out, and went running after the other knight. "GWAINE!"

Percival looked at Merlin to see if he needed help.  Finally able to breath, he nodded at his large friend, and they ran to catch up.

Arthur had stopped just inside the gate; his sword held tightly in his hand. At least five passages presented themselves from the central open area.  Gwaine was nowhere in sight. The moment that Merlin passed through the portal, he cringed and spun around; cursing silently as the portcullis came crashing down.

A horrendous screeching sound came from all around them, and the wyvrens appeared on the ledges and walls above.

"Welcome, King Arthur...to the end of your existence."

The three men looked up toward a balcony overlooking the courtyard.  The woman was familiar, but her eyes did not fit the body they saw.  Merlin and Arthur were taken aback by the wrongness of it. In her hand she held a glowing orb that called to the depths of Merlin's soul.

"Isn't that Guinevere's old servant?" Arthur whispered with concern, having expected to see Morgause.

"Sefa." Merlin swallowed down the bile that suddenly appeared in the back of his throat. "...and I don't think it's her anymore."

* * *

Gwaine rushed forward, headlong and foolhardy, after the man who claimed to have his sister. He was deaf to the words yelled at him by his king and his friends.

From the courtyard he had followed Bran blindly, running up the stairs and through a doorway.  The knight paused for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkened corridor. 

The hot flash of anger that had sent him on the chase had simmered down to a cold rage.  He began proceeding with more caution, when he caught a glimpse of movement at the end of the hallway.

He entered the room carefully; his eyes scanning the space.  His visual inspection stopped upon seeing a slender figure.  

A small shaft of light illuminated the woman;  dejected in a corner.  She sat on a soiled cot near a window that was no more than an arrow slot.  Thin and frail, she had dark bruises around her wrists, and another on her face.  Long chains connected from her wrists to the nearby wall. 

Dark brown hair was dulled with weeks of filth and twisted into knots. It looked more like the mane of a wild pony than the once shimmering chestnut hair of a noblewoman.    
  
Gwaine almost dismissed the woman, until she looked up and their eyes met.  He felt his heart sink as her chocolate brown eyes, an exact match to his own, stared in utter shock.  He rushed to her side...the man who had led him through the maze of a castle was forgotten.

"Clare?" He managed to push his voice past the tightness in his throat, and wrapped his arms around his sister.

She fell into his embrace, crying with relief. The chains and cuffs knocked against him, but he didn't seem to notice as he held her, murmuring words of comfort.

Bran stood behind the door in the shadows, as he watched the reunion. He felt a pang of longing for his own sister. It was an odd twist of fate how similar their stories were -- his and Gwaine's. It was in an effort to rescue his own dearest Branwen that cost him nearly everything. In the end, he had been unable to save her, and she had died -- broken in heart and body -- so far from home.   After which, he had seemed to be doomed for eternity; nothing more than a head gazing out to the sea and away from the broken lands his father once ruled.

"I have kept my word, as you can see." Bran finally spoke up from his place at the wall.

Gwaine spun instantly, his sword in his hand and pointed toward the man.  His eyes narrowed and he placed himself between Bran and his sister. "...And the bruises? Oh, you've kept her perfectly safe, haven't you?"

Clarissant grabbed her brother's arm. "It wasn't him. It was the woman. Bran has not laid a hand on me."

His eyes shifted back to her.   Assuming the woman was Morgause, Gwaine now owed her for more than the hell she had put Arthur's sister through.

Bran was also worried about the witch.  He knew she was nearby and time was of the essence. "I know you can tell, if not for this wretched body, I would be a much better fighter than you." He said coldly, bringing Gwaine's attention back to him.

Gwaine snorted, but immediately went on guard, when Bran stepped closer.

Bran's voice was almost a whisper when he spoke.  "She has the ability to control this body like a puppet! Keep your word as a knight, and I vow, with your body and my skill we can make the witch pay.  I will do everything in my power to bring her down and make certain your sister is safe."

He knew Gwaine was listening, so he continued, "Even as we speak, your companions are fighting her and a host of wyvern with that damned stone she has. I swear, I can defeat her...just, not like this. Even if you cut my head from this body, it will find its way back on, and we don't have the time for you to deal with that."

Clarissant cried out from her corner. "No!  There has to be another way."

"Quiet, Clare," Gwaine ordered. Shaking his hair out of his face, he glanced at his sister, and then, back at Bran.

Six years ago he never would have considered his honor, especially to save his sister.  He cursed Merlin and Arthur for their faith in him as a man and a knight, and the values they had inspired.   Studying Bran, he knew the other man was probably right about the fighting skills.

He kissed his sister gently on the forehead. "You know I love you, you old toad."

"No, you can't. Please," she begged him, her dirt-caked fingers dug into his arms.

He pried them loose and moved towards Bran.

"Clare, when this is over, go to Lot.  Have him tell you the real story about mum. He's actually a good man...and tell him, I'm sorry."

The rogue prince, grandson of King Lot, and Knight of Camelot knelt before Bran reluctantly. His sword tip pressed into the ground and he rested his forehead on top of the hilt. "Make it quick."

Bran nodded in admiration, as he moved forward and raised his axe. 

 


	9. The Green Knight, part 2

Clarissant couldn't stand to watch her twin brother die for her. She hid her head in her hands.  Tears streamed down her face leaving streaks in the dust on her cheeks. This was not how she had imagined the last time she saw her brother to be.

All of the arguments and strife between them seemed to fall away.  Just knowing he was actually here for her, despite their previous parting, was enough to rekindle her faith in him.

"WAIT!" Gwaine called out suddenly, interrupting Bran's swing.

The man brought his axe up short and gave a questioningly look to the knight.

Gwaine turned to his sister. "Promise me something, Clare. You get out of here and find a good man...not like that waste of life you had before. Find someone who treats you decently, or by the Gods, I will come back from the Beyond and haunt your scrawny ass.  Got it?...And trust in Merlin and Arthur.  They'll help you out and make sure you don't end up on the streets, or anything."

Clarissant sniffled and looked up, her bottom lip trembled.  She nodded, "I promise."  

His faith in his friends made her think she might be okay after this.  Silently, she swore that if she did make it out, she would try to heed his advice...maybe just avoid any romantic entanglements altogether. 

Gwaine pinched his lips together and returned her nod solemnly. "Sorry about that," he said to Bran.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and placed his head back on the sword.

Bran raised his axe again. He found himself admiring the man before him, and feeling regret for what had to be done in this game of honor and bloodshed. He steeled himself for the blow when an odd sound caught his attention. It took him a moment to realize it was Gwaine and he noticed the man's head twitching oddly.

Gwaine was blowing out sharp little breaths from his nose and mouth. When he realized Bran had yet to strike, he held out his hand and glanced up. "Sorry, hair tickling my nose."

He brushed the offending strand out of his face. Then he paused, set his sword aside, and began running his fingers through his brown locks -- fluffing it away from his scalp. After a few moments of that, he picked up his sword and admired his reflection.

"If these are my last moments," he explained, "I want to look my best."

He quickly hid a smile, as he noticed his sister pulling out of her shell to stare at him in disbelief. He could almost feel her fighting not to roll her eyes at her idiot brother.

Bran felt a growl forming in the back of his throat, as the vain knight repositioned himself.

For the third time, he raised his weapon.  He felt certain that this would be the swing that would bring him closer freedom. Three hundred years of pained existence looking out a window, and then a witch whose twisted words only seemed to be more of an imprisonment.

The Prince of Corbenic could hear the halting breath of Clarissant in his ears.  He wanted this done and over with -- for her sake as much as for his own. The axe began to fall again when Gwaine's head shot up and to the side, gracing Bran with a pleading smile.

It was all Bran could do in his shock to stop the blade; managing to halt it just as it nicked the edge of Gwaine's neck. "What is it this time?" He bit out between clenched teeth.

Gwaine's hand covered the wound. "Ow!  Oh, um...I don't suppose you have anything to drink? Ale, mead, wine?  It would make this whole deal a lot smoother if I had something to help kill the pain and take the edge off my nerves."

"Oh, for Fuck's sake, Bran! Give me your axe. I'll do it myself!" Clarissant growled.  Her tears were replaced with anger.

"Hey! Don't you be using that kind of language! I can't believe you used to kiss our mother with that mouth.  By the Gods, woman!" Gwaine spat back, pointing a threatening finger at his sister. "Here I am, trying to be honorable and all I'm asking for is a little liquid courage to help get me through it, so I can get your ugly ass out of this mess you got yourself into."

Clarissant shot towards him as far as the chains would let her. "So help me, if I wasn't chained to this wall...I would strangle you right here and now!"

"Put a sock in it, Clare!"

"If it was one of yours, then at least I would be comfortably unconscious from the noxious fumes," she hissed.

Bran stepped back. In the weeks he'd spent with the nobleman's wife, he had only seen small glimpses of the fire behind her eyes. Although, it was nothing compared to the spectacle he witnessed now.

He almost laughed. Although he and Branwen had not been twins, he could recall how the simplest things could spark an argument between them.  Fights between siblings had obviously not changed over the centuries, and it made him suddenly miss his sister deeply.

"You do realize, while we're up here wasting time, your friends are possibly facing their demise?" He reminded Gwaine.

Gwaine waved him off. "Eh, Merlin's with them.  They'll be fine. Can we get on with this now?" He glared at his twin sister, secretly pleased to see some life in her.

Biting his bottom lip, Bran angrily moved towards Clarissant and raised the weapon, roaring as he swung.

She shrieked and ducked.  Her hands covering her head in fear, while Gwaine screamed in protest...his eyes were wide with shock.

When the axe hit the wall, it smashed through the chains holding the brunette, freeing her from the corner.

Bran turned and stalked furiously to the door.  He reached into a pocket, and turned long enough to throw the key to the shackles at Gwaine.  There had been no sane reason to dull his axe against the wall, but it had made him feel better to have hit something.

He couldn't begin to imagine the hell their mother must have gone through and he wondered if his own parents had ever felt the same.

"I will resist the witch as long as I can, but I make no promises that I still won't take your head this day for other reasons."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's my personal twisting of Gwaine and the Green Knight.
> 
> Sir Gawain and the Green Knight summery of the historical literature- Green knight shows up in Camelot on New Year's and makes a challenge anyone can strike him with his axe, but he must be able to return the same blow the following year. Gawain picks up the axe and chops off the Green Knight's head. The green knight, picks his head up, puts it back on (after teasing Guinevere with it) and says for Gawain to meet him at the Green Chapel in a year.
> 
> Gawain arrives at a lord's house 2 miles from the chapel, 4 days before his scheduled meeting. Each day the lord goes out hunting and tells Gawain he will give him what he hunted in exchange for anything Gawain won during the day. First day the lady of the house tries to seduce Gawain and only manages a kiss. So Gawain kisses the lord on his return. 2nd day – two kisses, 3rd day- 3 kisses. But on the third day the lady also gave Gawain a sash of green and gold telling him it will keep him safe from harm. Gawain fails to tell the lord about the sash, because he thinks it will protect him from the Green Knight. Fourth day Gawain goes and meets the Green Knight in the chapel and kneels before him ready to have his head taken. He realizes that the Green Knght is the lord he has been staying with.
> 
> Translation by Jessie L. Weston: "First I menaced thee with a feigned one, and hurt thee not for the covenant that we made in the first night, and which thou didst hold truly. All the gain didst thou give me as a true man should. The other feint I proffered thee for the morrow: my fair wife kissed thee, and thou didst give me her kisses-for both those days I gave thee two blows without scathe-true man, true return. But the third time thou didst fail, and therefore hadst thou that blow. For 'tis my weed thou wearest, that same woven girdle, my own wife wrought it, that do I wot for sooth."


	10. Illusions

 

 _The mile went on forever, the minutes turned to days_  
Could I have been misguided by the mystic's ways?  
 _The moment lasts forever, at least it does for me_  
 _Caught between what happened and what could never be..._

_'The Road to Mandalay' by Blackmore's Night_

 

* * *

 

"Don't even think about it." She growled.  She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling from the close call of nearly losing her brother.

"Think about what?" Gwaine asked innocently, as he sheathed his sword and retrieved the fallen key.

"...Trying to find some way to chain me to the wall again -- to keep me out of the way. I can see it in your face," she accused him. Brown eyes narrowed at her brother.

Gwaine shook his head and bit back a protest. He was reluctant to admit that the thought had crossed his mind, because of the creatures outside, but he had immediately dismissed it. "No. I'm not going to do that." He sighed, unlocking the shackles from her wrists. "I think I'm going to keep you in my sight from now on.  So, you don't get into more trouble."

"I don't need a nanny!"

He took her face in his hands; mindful of the bruise on her cheek. She flinched unconsciously from the physical contact, although his touch was softer than she had ever known it to be.

"Hey," he whispered gently. "It's alright. I'm just here to rescue my favorite damsel in distress. We're going to get out of here; get you back to Camelot where you can relax and enjoy a life of luxury."

Clarissant blinked and met her brother's gaze. She drew strength from his unusually calm demeanor. 

He had grown up since their last encounter. He no longer looked like a ruffian.  Instead, he looked like a true warrior in his chainmail and red cape.  She noticed that their mother's sash had been carefully wrapped around the scabbard of his castle-forged blade. Yet, the thing that caught her off guard the most was the fact that he was dead sober. "Were you really going to sacrifice yourself for me, or was that all just for show?" She asked, rubbing her wrists.

"If it came to it...yeah.  Yeah, I was." He stepped back and held out his hand for her. "Really glad I didn't have to.  But, the day is still young." Gwaine smiled and winked at her.

She started to take the outstretched limb and then recoiled. Gwaine quickly masked the look of hurt and sadness that passed behind his eyes as he watched her.

The whole baiting and bickering in front of Bran had been more for his sister's sake, than for the Prince of Corbenic.  He had used it to rekindle the fire that had, at one time, burned so brightly in his sister's soul.

It had worked while they were in the heat of the moment and he was challenging her with his words.  He felt a sense of consolation to know that if he had lost his head, she would eventually heal. He watched as the spirit was replaced once again by the conditioned fear that had been Clarissant's life for so long.  His heart clenched.

"Please." His voice was filled with love for his twin.  "Let me get you out of here."

Clarissant nodded mutely and placed her dirty, frail hand in his large, calloused one. He smiled in relief and began leading her gently toward the door.

She suddenly stopped and pulled from his grasp. "Wait!" Running back to the cot, she picked up a large leather bound tome, and hugged it tightly to her chest. "I can't leave this," she explained.

Gwaine bit his tongue.  He knew they had to get out and he didn't want a book to slow them down. Yet, he couldn't deny her.  She held it, as if it was the most precious thing in the world to her.  If the book made her feel something other than fear, he would do everything in his power to make certain she kept it. "Fine, but stay behind me and if it comes to it – you drop that book and run. To the west first, until you reach the ruined castle.  Then, northwest through the swamp to the bridge, got it?"

She nodded her understanding; reaching for his hand again, as he swept her down the hall and out of the room.

After a while, Gwaine had begun to curse at himself when he found that he was lost.

"If you had just turned left two corridors back, like I suggested…"

"Shut it!" He growled.

Clarissant held up a hand of protest. "I'm simply trying to say, I've been…"

Gwaine spun on her. "Say what? That I'm an idiot, who couldn't find his way out of a muslin bag?"

She stomped her foot and huffed, "That too! However, Bran took me on a tour of the castle when I was first brought here.  Despite what you make think, I actually do pay attention to my surroundings."

"Why the bloody hell didn't you say so?" He looked at her with his mouth hanging open.

"I think, I did...after you missed the first turn," she drawled and rolled her eyes.

He grumbled under his breath and waved his hand. "Lead on."

Quicker than he could have imagined, they found themselves squinting against the bright sunlight of the courtyard.

Clarissant blinked and shielded her eyes.  A rush of anxiety swept through her as she was suddenly shoved back through the doorway.

A flash of red obscured her vision, as her brother threw himself between her and a snapping wyvren.  With quick reflexes, he dispatched the beast and then, pulled her along.  

He sped down the outer stairs and into the courtyard where three men had their backs to a wall, fighting off more of the creatures.

Bodies of wyvren were piling around the men.  Those that fell to the swords and hadn't died, were trampled by their own kin.   Others, perhaps with slight more brains than their brethren, stood back and circled just out of reach.

Gwaine fought his way to his friends, dragging his sister behind him.  They quickly put Clarissant in the center of them to protect her.   With a quick glance, Gwaine noticed that Bran was fighting with Arthur and Percival. Merlin was nowhere in sight.

"Where the hell have you been?" Arthur gritted out, striking at the closest creatures.

"He refused to stop to ask for directions." Clare cut in, before her brother could respond.

The king spared her a glanced, and then shot Gwaine a smile. "She's cheeky! I like her already."

"Shove off, Princess. Where's Merlin?"

"He saw Morgause and took off after her, down the passageway over there. We were blocked by the beasts from following." Percival told him, motioning off to their right.

"That leads down into the dungeons," Bran stated. 

"What the hell was he thinking?"

"He's an idiot. He doesn't stop to think if someone he cares about is in trouble, kind of like a certain knight I know!" Arthur yelled, as the creatures pressed forward again.

The men were beginning to show signs of fatigue.   Bran's sword had been a welcome addition, but even with his skill, it was a tough fight.

When he had arrived outside moments before, he had found the two men trying to fight through the creatures, and quickly joined the melee.

Arthur had spun around, ready to fight him, until Bran had rapidly explained that everyone still had their heads and Gwaine would find his way out shortly.  For the time being, Arthur decided not to argue.  It was difficult enough fighting the wyvren, he couldn't worry about Bran as well.

The flash of red cloth in the door, eased his mind and spurred his momentum.

Gwaine's eyes were wide, but he didn't dare look at the others. "What do you mean?"

"He thinks that Morgause somehow captured the Red Dragon." Percival told him. "That is who he actually meant when he said 'she's here.'" He cast an apologetic smile at Clarissant.

She felt a pang of embarrassment at her current state, even though she was confused by his words. "It's alright," she muttered and returned his smile, shyly. 

"Do you think the witch also has the Cauldron thing?" Gwaine wondered aloud, as the creatures backed off.  With another sword beating against them, they retreated to the walls and the parapets.  It gave the four men a chance to catch their breath.

"What cauldron?" Bran asked.

"It's said to have mystical healing properties. We came here to find it so Merlin could work his magic and heal Sir Leon. Helping _Princess_ Gwaine," Arthur beamed as his knight scowled, "...was an added bonus."

Bran shook his head.  Knowledge of exactly what they sought came to the forefront of his mind. "It's not here," he informed them.

Arthur's eyes shot open in disbelief. Calmly as he could, he asked, "What do you mean, 'it's not here'? We're fighting wyvren and a sorceress who can control them.  One who has also managed to capture an ancient red dragon...all to find out what we are looking for is not even here? Incredible! Why did we even make this journey?!"

"Are you saying you wouldn't have come at all?  What about my sister?"  Gwaine spat out.

"That is not what I said, Gwaine!"

"Well, you certainly implied it!" Gwaine and Arthur were standing toe to toe, and eye to eye.

"There were more important things to worry about.  Your sister may not have even been brought here, except for the fact we were already coming to these lands.  Did you think about that?"

"Your king is right.  She would not have been a part of this. However, it appears that this scenario, for her at least, was better than the alternative hell she was living in."  The ancient prince rolled his eyes at the childish behavior.

Percival was warily glancing between the progressing argument and the creatures eyeing them from the walls. He noticed as some of the wyvern turned their attention from the group and he saw a flash of torn skirts disappearing down the corridor Bran had pointed out.

"Sire," he said trying to get the king's attention. "SIRE! GWAINE!" He roared and they paused, turning towards the large knight. "I think your sister just went after Merlin."

"What the hell! Clare!" He yelled once he realized his sister wasn't in sight.

All four men made a dash to the doorway. The wyvrens screeched and gave chase. Percival managed to make it through, while the other three were once again cut off.

"Go! find them!" Gwaine shouted to his friend.

* * *

 

Clarissant's breath was shallow as she tip-toed into the dungeon passageways.

The previous night, while she had sat in her cell, she'd overheard Morgause taunting a new prisoner. Clarissant had been too scared to say or do anything, even after the witch had left.

She had heard the woman in the next cell whimpering and gasping in pain. A part of her had felt guilty for not trying to offer some sort of comfort.

While her brother and the king argued, she felt a sudden burst of courage, completely unlike herself. She wanted payback, not only for herself, but also for everyone else the witch had hurt. The creatures above were focused on the men, and she realized she was able to easily slip along the wall without notice.

She heard voices, shouting in archaic languages, from one of the larger rooms. 

Carefully, she peeked around the corner. The center of the room was empty and around the edges were pillars lit with torches.  Shadows danced against the carved, grotesque reliefs on the pillars and hid the spaces behind them in darkness.

A dark-haired man circled the room opposite Morgause.  His eyes were locked on her, yet they seemed somehow clouded.  The dagger in his hand, glinted in the torchlight.

Looking back, Clarissant realized this may not have been the wisest decision, as the man's eyes glowed and his other hand shot forward forcing Morgause back against the wall. Clarissant cringed and turned her head away.

Holding her breath, she carefully opened her eyes, almost not daring to look back at the two sorcerers. What she did see, however, made her breath catch in her throat.

An identical version of her captor  -- also the woman who had just been magically shoved against a wall -- stood hidden in the shadows behind one of the pillars.  She was smiling manically, while holding a round stone that pulsed with magic. Clarissant looked back at the other one, who was pushing herself off the floor and noticed a slight shimmer about her.

"Your magic cannot kill me. I am a High Priestess of the Triple Goddess.  You stupid, arrogant man." The woman rising snarled.

Clarissant's eyes widened.  The words spoken appeared to be out of sync with the woman's mouth. A glance back at the version of Morgause behind the pillar showed her speaking into the stone, and her eyes glowed with power.

"When I am done with you, I will find my sister and once again bind her to my side before taking my revenge on your precious king."

The man's face scowled with hatred at the mention of the woman's sister. "Perhaps not, but I know Carwenhau can." He said indicating his dagger. "This time I will find a way to make certain you do not rise again.  You will never be able to sink your claws into Morgana while I live."

Clarissant's fingers ached as she gripped the book tighter to her chest.  She could now see through the illusion that Morgause was casting, even if the man couldn't. Her heart felt like it was going to burst from her chest and she knew she needed to do something.

Silently, she crept through the shadows. All of Morgause's concentration was on the stone. Clarissant could hear the shouting of spells and the air tingled with energy. She raised the book in her hands, as she neared the witch and brought it down across the back of the priestess' head.

Morgause's skull, struck by the tome, careened into the pillar and the stone went flying from her grip.  It smashed upon impact with the stone floor in a brilliant blinding explosion that rocked the dungeon walls.

* * *

Aithusa darted in and out of the trees.  She circled under the bridge and then flew high into the air, giggling and squealing with her newly found voice.

Grettir smiled and laughed at the childish antics.

He felt a cold shiver instantly run up his spine and a sense of deep, overwhelming grief overcame him.

Aithusa landed next to him, her joyous attitude suddenly dashed, as she felt it to.

"Why do I feel so sad?" She asked the dwarf.

Grettir smiled sadly at her.  He knew what she felt and patted his lap.

Aithusa dragged herself over and placed her head, almost the same size as his torso, on the warlock's lap with a depressed sigh. Pearl-like, golden tears leaked from her pale blue eyes.

Grettir stroked her head and neck as she cried herself to sleep, not understanding where her sorrow came from. He waved his hand and the gameboard appeared in front of him.

He felt a tightness in his chest as he studied it.

The Red Dragon's last move was her queen.  It left an empty path to her king. If Grettir had not castled, she would have succeeded in checking him the following move. He looked to his own pieces and drew a breath when he noticed her gamble. He was wrong when he thought he put her simply into check with his rook, but now he saw his own mistake.

Her king had nowhere to go. The ancient dragon had gambled with destiny in a bold move of win or die.

It was checkmate.

* * *

She blinked and squinted, attempting to clear her vision and stop the ringing in her ears.  When her eyes focused, she had expected to see Morgause laid out in front of her.  She was shocked when there was nothing but shards of crystal from the stone.

Clarissant heard the man's voice cry out in heart-breaking agony and the sound of a woman gasping through the ringing in her ears.

Moving around the pillar she felt her heart sink. The dark-haired man was holding the body of an elegant woman dressed in crimson.  Long, red hair flowed out around her head and she gasped in painful, ragged breaths.

Cautiously, her eyes searched for any sign of Morgause, as Clarissant made her way over to them. The dagger protruded from the woman's chest.  Blood flowed and left a dark stain that was nearly black on the red silk of her dress.

Bright red blood foamed out of the woman's mouth as she coughed feebly. The man took off his jacket and tried to use it to staunch the flow of life as it poured out of the woman.  He cast spell after spell through his hands.

He was so lost in his attempts he didn't notice Clarissant's approach. He leaned down towards the woman's face, and she whispered into his ear.  Her breath rattled with one last gasp, and all the tension in her body released.

"No!" He sobbed, vainly trying another spell. His hands arms and torso were coated with blood, but he didn't seem to notice.

Clarissant laid her hand on his comfortingly, not realizing that she would shock him.

He snapped back, his arm outstretched towards her frightfully.

"I'm sorry, so very sorry," she whispered as she stood; backing toward the door in fear. The sight of the pain and anger in his blue eyes too much for her to bear in her own fragile state. She was ready to bolt when someone grabbed her hair and yanked her head back painfully. Cold metal bit into her throat.

"What do we have here? A filthy, little girl who thinks she can play at being a hero. You will pay for what you have done, pet." Morgause's voice slithered across Clarissant's skin.

 

 


	11. Pieces

Percival froze as the castle around him shook from an explosion. The dungeon's corridors were a maze, and he was certain he had turned down the wrong path more than once. The sound of the blast echoed through the halls.  He saw a brief flash of light, and it finally gave him a hint of which way he needed to go.

* * *

The ground shook beneath them, and the wyvren seemed to awaken from whatever spell had compelled them. They turned on each other; snarling and snapping, or fleeing to lick their wounds.  The three men were no longer the priority.

Seeing their chance, Bran led Gwaine and Arthur quickly down into the dungeons; throwing the lever to drop a gate behind them. He traded his axe for an unlit torch hidden next to the lever.  It lit quickly with a spark from a piece of flint struck against the sword that he'd pulled from his belt. "This way," he said, rushing down a slope into the prison.

* * *

 

Merlin's mind finally caught up to everything that had happened.

The warlock had cast another spell, which sent Morgause spinning into one of the pillars.  He had on top of her in an instant; the magical dagger in his hand ready to strike.

Suddenly...it wasn't Morgause.   

He had felt the moment the illusion spell had broken.  Before he'd had time to react, the shockwave from an explosion hit him from behind, and sent him and the dagger straight into the Red Dragon Lady.

He had tried everything he could to stop her from dying.  With all of his skill as a physician from years with Gaius, his magic -- even his abilities as a dragon lord – and she had still died in his arms...from his blade.

He was startled when someone touched his hand.  Snapping back to reality, he thrust his arm out -- ready with another spell.

It was a woman in tattered, dirty clothing.  Her dark eyes were wide with terror as she backed away from him, apologizing with each step. As she reached the doorway, a figure stepped out from behind a pillar.

Merlin's eyes narrowed as fury raced through him.  His mind rushed through different scenarios.  He assumed the woman Morgause held hostage must have been Gwaine's sister, but he was wary of another possible illusion.

Morgause's eyes sparkled, and she dragged her captive back into the hallway.

"Stop!" A voice yelled from outside the room.

Bran, Gwaine, and Arthur saw the situation unfold in front of them.

"That's the wench from the brothel. Let her go!" Gwaine hollered at the woman with the knife.  His sword was out and he stepped menacingly towards her.

She turned towards the three men.  Her gold eyes glowed eerily in the torchlight and suddenly the clash of steel echoed through the dungeon. Bran's blade swung out to strike at Gwaine.

The roguish man faltered back a step. Looking into Bran's eyes, he could see the struggle for control.

"Sorry about this." Bran grunted out, his face was contorted into a grimace. The actions of his body were out of his control.

Gwaine's sword came up and met Bran's next strike. "S'all good, friend," he gritted out.

Morgause was backing away down the corridor, using Clare as a shield. Merlin came through the doorway, joining Arthur.  Meanwhile, Gwaine and Bran were battling in the middle of the hallway, blocking them from the women.

"Any ideas?" Arthur asked through clenched teeth.

Merlin's eyes flitted to Arthur then down the hall to a point just beyond the women.

The glint of chainmail, peeking cautiously around a corner, caught his eye.  He'd been curious as to where Percival had gone to, when he noticed the large man wasn't with his companions.

Percival saw Merlin, as well. He pointed to himself then the women and made a tugging motion.

The warlock gave him a single, inconspicuous nod.  Although, he was reasonably certain Morgause's attention was on the two fighters. Merlin looked away from the fighting.

Arthur caught the glint of gold in his cousin's eyes. He felt Merlin's hand brush his arm and a warm tingle spread through the king.

"I hope this works. Are you ready?" Merlin asked.

"Anything I should know about?"

"Just run as fast as you can toward Morgause." Merlin whispered.  He took a deep breath. This would be his first time ever attempting something like this, and if it worked even he would be amazed by it.

He let the magic, fueled by his anger at the dragon's death, build inside of him. He had to wait for just the right moment.

Morgause kept backing up, unaware of the danger behind her. When she was a step away from the adjoining corridor Merlin called out to his friends, just before the golden fires lit his eyes. "Sorry Gwaine, this is going to hurt."

"What's that?" Gwaine panted, before he felt himself flung to the side by Merlin's magic.

Merlin's eyes flared again stretching out to the space. Time slowed around him and it took all of his willpower to hold the spell, while spreading out his magic to Arthur and Percival. He hoped that Morgause would be affected by the sluggish time effect, however being the dark spirit of a High Priestess, he wasn't certain that she would.

Arthur burst into motion, charging Morgause, whose eyes widened in surprise.

Percival was momentarily shocked that everything around him appeared to slow down, but it didn't take long for him to understand. He quickly grabbed Clarissant, yanking her away from Morgause's grasp as Arthur advanced on the witch with his sword ready, once Gwaine and Bran were forced to the sides.

His sword bit into the witch's flesh, just as everything sped back to normal. He saw her eyes flash and felt himself flying backwards.  Crashing into Merlin and they both tumbled to the floor.

"Fools!" The mad woman hissed, holding her side.

Bran and Gwaine recovered quickly.  The Prince of Corbenic finally had control of himself for the moment and he turned on Morgause menacingly.

"One last parting gift, dear Bran," Morgause crooned.  Her free hand pointed at the advancing warrior. " _Lígcwalu bánwærc!_ *"

Bran collapsed, screaming in pain, and his body writhed in the throes of a seizure. Gwaine, Merlin, and Arthur were once again blocked from reaching Morgause.  Gwaine grabbed his sword and finally managed to get an opening.  Chopping downward, he severed the head from the body.

Merlin's eyes shot to the ceiling above Morgause and loosened the stone ceiling above her.  The force of the falling rocks displaced the air and extinguished all the torches in the immediate area.

"Is everyone alright?" Arthur called out, being the first to recover in the near darkness. He could hear the groans from the others as they began moving.

Bran's voice was the first to respond. "Better than I was. Thank you, Sir Gwaine."

"Yep." Gwaine replied gruffly. "Clare?"

Percival's voice was next to answer, "We're alright."

 _"Ryren*,_ " Merlin said softly and all the torches flared back to life. He had managed to land next to one of the walls and sat with his back resting against it.  He closed his eyes, trying to will the pain away.  He didn't need to see to be able to feel his ribs; probably cracked from either the magical battle and following explosion, or from Arthur being blasted into him. Yet, the hurt he felt went far beyond the physical aspect of it all.

"Merlin, come on you lazy half-wit, pull yourself together."  Arthur called jokingly over his shoulder, as he stepped across Bran's former body.

Merlin chuckled sarcastically. "Don't bother checking the rubble. She's not there."

The king scowled and ignored his cousin's advice.  Just as Merlin had predicted, there was no sign of the witch's body.  "How did you know?"  Arthur asked angrily.

Merlin just shrugged, "I'm not sure I could count the number of times I have crushed that woman...in whatever body she inhabited.  She always manages to escape."

"That's a priestess for you." Bran's head mentioned offhandedly.

His comment got Merlin's attention and he finally opened his eyes to glance at the head. "What do you mean?"

"It's something to do with the Dark Earth aspect of the goddess they serve...the one who controls the underworld. Falling rock won't harm them if they are truly devout." He wished he could see Merlin's face, but the way his head had fallen, he was turned away and on side. "The earth will swallow them and spit them out somewhere safe. If Taliesin was still around, he could explain it better."

Percival and Clarissant came around the corner cautiously.  While the woman ran into her brother's arms, Percival moved over to the severed head.  He looked down uneasily, before gently picking it up. Although he was slowly getting used to Merlin's ability with magic, the talking head was completely a foreign concept.

"Merlin?" Gwaine's voice was filled with concern. He let go of his sister and moved over to his friend.  He noticed the blood covering Merlin's arms and torso, and immediately began checking the warlock over.

"Stop, Gwaine.  It's not mine...just a couple bruised ribs." Merlin stated, trying to push Gwain off of him.

"If you're not bleeding, then who…?" Arthur questioned, but trailed off and went to look in the room Merlin had come out of. "Oh, damn."

"She was using an illusion.  It wasn't your fault." Clarissant offered softly, standing behind her brother. Merlin looked at her, his eyes so different from what she had seen in the room. There was no anger in them anymore, just a deep sorrow.

"You must be this one's sister." He motioned to Gwaine. "I'm Merlin.  The blond clot pole is King Arthur, and that's Sir Percival. Thanks, for whatever you did in there to break the spell."

She smiled and tried to smooth out her rags.  She instantly felt very self-conscious to be in the presence of royalty. "Nice to meet you all.  Thank you for saving me." Clarissant turned to her brother. "So, you really are a knight now?"

"Don't start with me," he warned, as he helped Merlin stand up.

"I meant it as a serious question," she mumbled sadly. She watched as the king came out of the torture chamber carrying the woman's body.

Percival still held Bran's head, as he came up next to her. "Don't mind him. I still don't think he's come to terms with being a knight after all these years...and now a prince on top of it."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

Percival just shrugged and began to lead her out. Clarissant stopped by the door to the chamber. "One moment."

He nodded and kept his eyes protectively on her, as she moved inside.

Torches burned low and rubble from the battle littered the floor.  She easily found the dropped book and bent to pick it up. A glimmer caught her eye and she noticed a small, broken shard of the Stone that Morgause had been holding. She picked it up cautiously and glanced around for more.

"Clarissant?" The tall knight called to her.  The ceiling above them creaked, weakened from the blast.   

"Coming," she replied.   Not seeing any other remnants of the Stone, she pocketed the crystal and made her way back to the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Fiery torment, Pain in the bones * a fiery torch
> 
> When I wrote this chapter originally, I had some serious flow issues which resulted in some rambling 'outtakes' to try and clear my mind.
> 
> Gwaine took his sword and finally managed to get an opening, chopping downward and severing the head from the body. (('tis a flesh wound, come back I can still bite your kneecaps! Or in Bran's case… toenails.)) (Monty Python ripoff)
> 
> Merlin's eyes shot to the ceiling above her and magically caused it to cave in on the witch. ((B-Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat. R-Again?)) (Rocky and Bullwinkle...and picking on how Morgana almost always got away in the show)
> 
> "Is everyone alright?" Arthur called out, being the first to recover. ((WOW there's a first so friggen OOC, usually he's knocked out first and last to recover, wonder if the readers will buy it?))
> 
> "I think I'm stepping on a hand!"
> 
> "That's mine, but don't worry, it's not going anywhere and I can't feel it. OMG I can't feel my hand, or my legs, or my body… Oh wait I don't have a body anymore, thanks for that by the way. Step on it a couple times for me, hell kick it if it makes you feel better." So Gwaine did.


	12. Dragon's Farewell

The sun was beginning its descent into the west, creating long shadows from the crumbling walls of the castle. Merlin gingerly fingered his dagger, seemingly captivated by how the dried blood clung to the blade.

Once outside, with help from Gwaine, his ribs -- already dark with bruises -- were carefully wrapped. Arthur had tried to joke and said he would have his servant clean the dagger.  Merlin responded with a blank stare.  Seeing the pain in his cousin's eyes, the king then offered to wipe it down himself.  

Merlin refused, "I want the blood of the dragon still on it...for when I finally find Morgause again."

Shoving down his rising emotions, he looked upon the body of the Red Dragon. There was so much he wanted to ask her...so many things she could have taught him.   He cherished the conversations he did have with her and lamented in the sorrow that there would be no more.

"Where do you think she is? We will head that way forthwith." Arthur said with determination.

His cousin shrugged, "I hope in agony, wherever it might be. I just pray it isn't anywhere near Snowdonia."

The others silently agreed, as they began moving through the area to find enough wood for a funeral pyre.

Excusing himself from the conversation, Merlin moved outside the walls to be with his own thoughts. Deep down, he felt the calling within his soul...the echo of his kin, and he returned the voice with his own.

"What was that?" Clarissant asked nervously.  They had all heard the gutteral words echo throughout the land.

The knights of Camelot glanced at each other, but it was Bran who answered her. "It's the summoning of a Dragon Lord. I've only heard the call a handful of times myself."

"That's got to be interesting without hands." Gwaine tried to say with a straight face and received a glare from his sister. "What? It was funny!" He defended, before bursting out with a chuckle.

Percival shook his head and Arthur turned away to hide his grin. Bran's eyes narrowed momentarily, then he let out with a laugh of his own.  He recalled a time when his own company of knights had been just as casual about his situation. "Actually, it was." 

"We'd better move the pyre outside. I think he just sent a message to the other dragon," Arthur suggested.

Percival appeared confused. "That little one can fit in the courtyard."

"Naw, I'm guessing he means the bigger one. The one Arthur _didn't_ kill."  Gwaine mentioned, offhandedly.

The king glowered, "Thank you for reminding me."

* * *

"Kilgharrah." Merlin nodded in greeting.

"I felt her death, young warlock, though I knew not which direction to fly." He turned his head towards the pyre that was being set up in front of the castle.

"Is there anything that can be done, to bring her back?" He asked, hoping that there was some chance, however slim.

The Great Dragon hung his head in sorrow. "I fear not. By whose hand did she perish?"

Merlin glanced down and drew a shaky breath. "My own. Morgause's soul has returned, she tricked me into …" He couldn't bring himself to actually say the words.

"Then, let us attend to her and say our farewells."

Merlin had expected a torrent of anger, or at the very least a lecture on how he should have taken matters into his own hands long ago. It was almost worse not having the dragon acknowledge what was said about Morgause. He felt the conflicted emotions inside him, and his mind raced with guilt. He wanted to cry out, to scream, to do...something. He wanted his guilt verified, for someone to tell him that he was to blame for this all. If he had been stronger, if he had recognized the illusion, if he had followed his instinct… if… if… if…

As though reading his mind the dragon spoke. " _If_ it had been anyone other than a Dragon Lord, then a piece of her spirit might have been trapped by the one who slew her. Be thankful the witch did not know this. Y Ddraig Goch was old -- older than any other I have ever known.  She was not the first dragon, although she liked to think so.  Thanks to you, young warlock, she will not be the last. You gave her hope, else she would have slumbered until all of us, including myself, had long turned to dust."

Kilgharrah looked at the mound of sticks and chuckled, "That will never do. Move her out away from the castle and I suggest all of you stand back near the wall once it is done."

Percival glanced at Arthur for permission.

"Do as he says," the king instructed.

The tall knight carried the woman's body away from the keep. He kept going until Kilgharrah told him to stop. Laying her down upon the edge where the rocks gave way to sand dunes, he then quickly moved back beside the others.

The dragon drew a breath and hissed out a golden glow upon the woman's body. They stood in awe as the slender form began to grow and shift. Clarissant felt faint as it morphed into a dragon at least three times the size of the one standing near Merlin. The crimson scales glinted with an iridescent glow in the gathering twilight.

"Now, young Dragon Lord, deep within your mind lies the power to do what needs to be done."

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He reached down in his soul and felt the same knowledge that had once called Aithusa from her egg rise within him.  A glowing presence filled him.

He could feel the spirit of his father, his grandfather, and on back in the line for countless generations.  He glimpsed the faces of those who came before him, joining with his own spirit to bid farewell to one so great.

She had been a champion for eons of the struggle between man, magic, and dragons.  Although she had slept for nearly five hundred years, she left a void in the hearts for all the magical beings who had ever known her.

In a whisper under his breath, he named her once again...and set her free.

The mountainous body of the dragon began to glow, as magical flames took hold.  It was a brilliant display of fluorescent greens, yellows, and blues. Merlin moved as close as he could to the fires and sat down to keep vigil.  

He looked over at Arthur. A part of him was concerned that the Red Dragon's death would impact the curse on Leon and the king, but as of yet, it appeared to still be intact. For that he breathed a silent sigh of relief.  However, he knew that time was even more of an enemy than before. There would be no second chance for them, if something went wrong.

Arthur took the opportunity to walk over to the nearby dragon. "Kilgharrah...?" The king began, but seemed unsure of how to phrase his request to the dragon.

"Yes, young king?"

"Is there any way you can take Merlin home for a few days? I don't think I've ever seen him so torn up, although he hides it too well. Also, I know he worries about Morgana.  With Morgause injured and still on the loose..."  He didn't need to finish his request to see that the dragon understood his concern.  "Plus, those clothes he has on are completely ruined."

The dragon chuckled, "Only because you request it, King Arthur, but as I have told him before: I am not a horse."

The king leveled his gaze on the dragon as much as he could. "...And yet, I get the impression that despite the protests, you would fly him to the ends of the earth if he asked."

* * *

 

 _Only in silence the word  
_ _Only in dark the light  
_ _Only in dying life;  
_ _Bright the hawk's flight  
_ _on the empty sky._

_~Creation of Ea_

_From "Wizard of Earthsea", Ursula K LeGuin_


	13. A Woman's Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was just a T-rated fic. During the edits I felt it could be expanded just a tad...it now pushes the T+ to mild M ratings in a steamy way. (just thought I'd warn ya ;))

The frost-covered ground crunched under his feet, and he pulled his blood-stained jacket tighter around his thin frame. A cold breeze stole his steaming breath away, as he walked along.

Freezing rain from the flight had seeped through his clothing and chilled him to the bone.  He could feel exhaustion settling in, though he tried to push it and the cold away with his magic. He made it to the fort and easily snuck inside. He was glad to see that so much of it had been rebuilt during his absence.

Everyone was asleep in the dark hours, before dawn approached.

He felt a measure of relief as he slipped through the door and closed it quietly behind him. He let out a breath, relieved to finally be out of the wind.

He found his way easily to the door he sought, feeling a tad guilty, but he knew if he didn't announce himself, there would be hell to pay in the morning. His stiff knuckles rapped lightly against the wood. In the silence of the night, he heard the rustling of bed sheets and was finally rewarded when the door cracked open.

Morgana gasped at the sight before her.  "Merlin!" She gasped, and wrapped tightly around his chest.

He returned her embrace, but gritted his teeth against the discomfort.  He couldn't stop the small grunt of pain when she squeezed him tighter.

Long, dark hair framed her porcelain face, and he reached out to brush a stray lock behind her ear.  He sighed with relief, knowing she was safe.  

Her green eyes were filled with concern. "Are you alright?"

Merlin shook his head sadly. 

She pulled him into her room, magically rekindling the fire in the hearth. In the glowing light she could see the blood stains on his clothing and the haunted look in his eyes.  She had felt the sadness sweep through the land, but hadn't understood the cause, and her dreams had told her nothing. "Arthur…?" 

"He's fine," Merlin said softly.  He sat down in a chair next to the fire and allowed the warmth to seep through him.

"I'll be back," Morgan whispered, donning a robe. She left him sitting there and made her way out of the door.

When she returned, he was lightly dozing. For the moment, he looked so peaceful and at home.  A tingling sensation welled up inside of her and her breath caught in her throat. Morgana placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, reluctantly waking him. "I have some water.  So, you can wash up."

He looked up at her and smiled, "Thanks."

Sitting forward, he attempted to pull his jacket off, but the movement strained the muscles around his ribs and he hissed in pain. "Would you mind helping me out a bit here?

"Whose blood is this?" She finally asked, looking over the stained coat. From the amount she saw, she could tell that whoever it was probably hadn't survived.

"Dragon's blood." The vision of the Red Dragon's face, as the dagger pierced her chest still vivid in his mind.  He wiped his hands over his eyes, trying to rid him of the images.

Morgana gasped, "Aithusa?"

"No.  She's fine. She's fine," He assured her. "It was the Red Dragon."

She smiled in relief, before catching herself. "Sorry, I don't mean to make light of it, but if it was Aithusa…I…" She brought her hand to her mouth and took a deep breath.

"I know. Aithusa is alright.  She is safe. Thank you for sending her with the um…" He coughed into his fist. "...message." He watched Morgana's eyes, trying to gauge how accurate the young dragon had been.

A flush crept into her cheeks. She was saved from answering when the door opened and Vivienne entered carrying a healing tote, similar to what Gaius used.

"Good to see you back, Lord Emrys." She said.  Her eyes darted from Merlin to her daughter. "We did not expect you to return so soon."

"Um, yeah.  Arthur sent me back here to change clothes." He blushed, knowing it was a feeble excuse. "The Red Dragon… fell while we were in battle." He felt a whole new level of guilt, knowing it was not only Morgana's sister, but the Lady Vivienne's daughter who they had been fighting.

Vivienne nodded, "Well then let's see how badly you were injured. Off with the shirt."

Merlin attempted to comply, but found it difficult to raise his arms to remove the tunic. He winced from the effort.

"Alright, we're cutting it off of you. I doubt it can be salvaged anyway." She stated in a very matter-of-fact voice. She came up behind him on the chair with a small dagger. He leaned forward to allow her to cut through the material. "With your permission, I'd like to try and keep some of the blood.  I remember hearing of some ancient magic that once had use for such an ingredient."

The warlock nodded, "Of course, especially if you find any of those spells are useful in sending a dark spirit permanently to the grave."

Morgana knelt in front of him to pull the shirt off and he suddenly felt extremely self-conscious, recalling Aithusa's 'secret.' 

Her fingers brushed his chest lightly and sent a shiver through his body.  As she began to unwind the binding around his ribs, she sucked in her breath when the bruising and swelling began to reveal itself. "How did that happen?"

"I had a cabbage-head…"  He paused and thought about his words. The idea of leaving the 'cabbage-head' with a disembodied head for company suddenly struck him as rather amusing.  He assumed that Gwaine was already having a field day with it. He stifled a hysterical chuckle. "Sorry.  Arthur, in full armor, got thrown into me, and the wall was being rude.  It refused to move out of our way."

The two women exchanged a look. Vivienne began poking around on his bare skin. He tried not to flinch as she pressed against his injury. "Well, at least two ribs seem to be cracked and one fully broken. You're lucky it didn't shift and puncture a lung. Morgana should be able to heal it right up for you."

"Really?" He asked with some trepidation.

Morgana smacked his bare arm. "Yes really. My mother has been training me, however, if you would rather let it heal by normal means...then, I will gladly leave it."

He licked his lips nervously.  He didn't want to admit that his apprehension was more about Morgana touching him than for her healing ability. "No...uh...I have faith in you."

"I'll go find you some clean clothing." Vivienne hid her smile, as she excused herself from the room.

Morgana's nightmares had increased.  Even with herbal drafts and tinctures, many of the visions had broken through.

From the state of Merlin's clothing alone, she could tell that at least some of what her daughter saw had already come to pass. The tightness and slouch in the young man's shoulders told Vivienne that the battle was not yet won. There was still a long road ahead for all of them, and she hoped they could find the strength in each other to help see them through.

Once her mother was gone, Morgana steadied her breathing and placed her hands on Merlin's side with the worst of the bruising. She felt the magic run through her fingers, as she whispered the words of a healing spell.

He held his breath and closed his eyes as he felt the warmth spread through his body. He could almost see the bones mending in his mind's eye. Her touch was euphoric and he had to bite back a moan of pleasure as her fingertips brushed against his bare skin.

A shuddering breath escaped him when she pulled her hands back. Merlin couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed that he didn't have other serious injuries for her to attend to. He sat back, and allowed some of the tension to leave his body.

Merlin then felt a warm, damp cloth touch his arm and he opened his eyes to see Morgana washing away the dirt and dried blood. He covered her hand with his own.  "I can wash myself, you know."

"I know. I was just trying to be helpful, but if you would rather I not…" She trailed off, melting as she met his vivid blue eyes.

He didn't want her to stop, but he was unsure how to handle his growing feelings.  "Uh, well, maybe if you could get my back," he suggested shyly.  In his mind she was still a Lady of the Court and he was nothing more than a servant.  

He sat forward and held his breath as the first droplets of moisture ran down his exposed skin.

Morgana chewed on her bottom lip,  She couldn't recall a time when she had seen him without a tunic, or at the very least, a night shirt. His skin was pale.  Scars, from previous scrapes with mortality or his general clumsiness, had left their mark across his back. She wondered if he realized how many he had.

She lost herself, lightly rubbing the wet cloth down his spine between his shoulder blades.  Her eyes twinkled with delight at seeing the perfectly toned, slender body underneath.  His bone structure would never support the more muscled build meant for the armor and swords of a knight, but he was no longer the scrawny, underweight boy he had been upon his arrival in Camelot. 

A soft moan escaped Merlin and a smile playing on his lips, when he felt her hands leave him to moisten the cloth again. He kept his eyes closed, allowing his senses to focus solely on her gentle ministrations.

Morgana leaned over him and began washing down his arms.  She moved the soft cloth across the light dusting of black hair on his chest and crept lower along his abs. He felt her breath against his neck and the way her hair whispered across his bare skin gave him goose bumps. Merlin allowed his imagination to run, wondering what it might be like to sit in a warm tub and return the favor someday.

A knock at the door, followed by Vivienne entering, broke him from his musing.  She admonished them both with a look and chuckled softly when they blushed.

She had been married once to a man whom she would help to wash when he came home from Uther's wars. Vivienne recalled the relief she had felt each time, at being able to see for herself that he was alive and relatively unharmed.

"Here are your clothes, _Merlin_ ," She said, using his name in much the same way Arthur did when he was annoyed. Although she  was happy to see them together, there was still a line of decency that needed respecting.

"Thank you." He said quietly as he stood up and took the clothing. He glanced at Morgana, and was amused to see that she seemed just as embarrassed as he felt.

"Come, my dear." Vivienne held her arm out for her daughter. "That dirty water needs to be taken care of and I'm sure Lord Emrys would rather redress in private."

Grudgingly, Morgana picked up the pail and followed her mother out. Vivienne pulled the door closed behind them and stood looking at her daughter. "I know you care deeply for him, and I want you to be happy, but don't let that cloud your judgment."

"What do you mean?" Morgana asked guiltily.

The older woman smiled and shook her head.  "Take it slow.  He does not need to leave and then return to find you with a swollen belly."

Morgana gasped at her mother. "I would never compromise myself like that!"  She protested, trying to deny her growing feelings.

"I know that, but I also know how temptation can blind a person." Vivienne stepped back. "I understand that I don't have a right to say anything, since you were so young when I left. However, that doesn't mean I feel any less love for you, or the need to protect you. Now, you should probably go rinse out that pail."

The younger woman sighed.  She knew her mother was right, but it didn't stop the butterflies in her stomach as she thought about Merlin on the other side of the door.

Merlin stretched and glanced around the empty room with a mixture of relief and disappointment. His head had begun to feel muddled from Morgana's ministrations, and he wasn't sure what would have happened if Vivienne hadn't returned when she did.  

Using the damp cloth Morgana had left behind, he finished washing and changed into the tunic and trousers that had been brought to him.  He sank back down into the chair and allowed his eyes to glaze over as he stared into the fire.  Exhaustion threatened to overtake him and he couldn't fight the emotions that bubbled up from inside.

Morgana half expected to find Merlin asleep in the chair when she returned.  She was stopped short when she saw him hunched over and cradling his head in his hands. His shoulders trembled with nearly silent sobs of grief.   Setting aside a tray filled with dried meats and a jug of mulled wine, she moved closer.   

He was momentarily startled when her arms wrapped around his shoulders.  It didn't take long for him to sink into her embrace, thankful for someone who could be his strength for a change.  After a while, his tears ceased and he stared absently into the hearth.

"Come on, you're exhausted." Her voice was filled with care as she led him over to the bed. Once he was settled, she patted his arm. "You get some sleep here. I'll go stay with my mother."

"Morgana," He called softly, just as she was turning to leave. "Stay with me, please. I really don't want to be alone right now."

She nodded and settled in the bed next to him. His long arms wrapped around her; pulling her close. "Do you want to tell me about any of it?" Morgana asked, resting her head on his chest. There had been many nights, before he left, that they had laid this way, only the roles were reversed. Usually it had been Merlin comforting her, and listening as she described her nightmares. She took satisfaction in being able to repay him in some small way.

"Camelot was a frenzy, so… I guess the best place to start is when we almost lost Arthur…" He began to tell her how the Red Dragon came to where they decided to hide Leon's body, leaving out the place and the people around it. He consoled himself that the less details she knew about that, the less chance anyone might seek her out for the information. His story then moved to Mercia and Gwaine's confrontation about his sister.

When he reached the part about the seaside castle, he felt his throat constricting.

She held him tightly as he spoke of it, and whispered comforting words to him as he finally cried himself to sleep.

* * *

Morgana yawned and wondered for a minute why she couldn't seem to move.

Warm breath tickled the hair on the back of her neck, and the strong arm lying across her middle tightened, pulling her closer. She smiled as her memory of the early morning hours returned.  She snuggled back against Merlin's chest...and stopped.

Her eyes widened as she felt him move.  Something very hard pressed against her backside. Rubbing his arm gently, she debated on either waking him, or attempting to slip out of bed. It was quite a difference from the many other times she had woken up next to him.

He mumbled sleepily and nuzzled against her neck.  His hips shifted against her, grinding into her hip. She tried to muffle the squeal that threatened to erupt out of her, realizing that she wouldn't be able to escape his grasp. He drew in a deep breath as he began to wake.

For a moment Merlin thought he was still dreaming...and what a wonderful dream it had been. Then reality, like a bucket of cold water, seemed to dump on him.  Morgana was shaking slightly in his embrace and his body was responding to her in a way he had only imagined.

He released her, more embarrassed than he had ever been before in his life. "Morgana, oh god, I'm a…a…" He held sucked in his breath and scrunched his face, not sure how to apologize for his current situation.

She rolled over to face him, flushed with amusement at his stammering. "Well, that's one way to _salute_ the morning." She couldn't help but tease him for his flustered state.

He pulled a pillow over his face attempting to hide his awkwardness and his laughter.

Morgana felt emboldened by his innocent avoidance. She tore the pillow away from him and stared into his blue eyes with a hungry expression. "You know, there are ways to help with your…uh… situation." Her green eyes dragged across his chest and hinted at something lower.  To hell with her mother's warnings, she thought spitefully.  She had learned long ago that there was more than one way to please a man.

"Morgana..." He protested weakly, unsure of how to continue, "We can't… what if… and oh hell…" His words were cut off as Morgana snaked her hand under the covers to brush against his thigh.

"Don't be so naïve." Morgana's eyes sparkled mischievously as she dove under the bed covers.

"No. Morgana… Morgana…"  Merlin tried to stop her, but she was too quick.

She wasted no time in untying his trousers and exposing him.   Her fingers traced along his length, causing an involuntary shiver to course through him.  He continued to protest until the moment her mouth closed around him.

His head fell back against the bed, eyes rolling upward, and his hands grasped at the blankets. "Oh, goddess...Morgana!"

 

* * *

Merlin held the raven haired beauty to him, and inhaled deeply. The scent of her intoxicated him. Part of him wanted to stay a while longer, though he knew he needed to return to Arthur's side.

With some fresh rations and a gift for Clarissant packed and waiting, he decided it was time to head out. He pulled back, gracing her with a sly smile as he bent down to kiss her. Before their lips touched Morgana pulled back. "We probably shouldn't."

Merlin's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "After this morning, I thought…"

Morgana shook her head and giggled nervously. "It was a moment of weakness. But don't worry, the Lady Lisanor never needs to know about it."

His eyes widened.  Arthur's voice resounded in his head as spoke about the way Morgana had toyed with the emotions of her suitors, and Gwaine's complaints about the assumptions of women in matters of the heart. Merlin then recalled the hushed conversations of other courtiers vying for an upper hand in gossip and power, when they thought no one was listening.

Although he had failed to explain to Morgana the extent of his brief involvement with Lisanor, he hadn't thought it was important.  As far as he had been concerned, Morgana only knew about the ball.  Her 'friend' comment came crashing in on him.

"Is that what it was about? I'm not up to playing games Morgana." He held her out at arm's length, wondering if he was that naïve or stupid to think that a noblewoman such as Morgana would actually care for him.  

"I'm sorry." She said harshly.  "I just wanted you to understand that I really didn't mean to put anything between the two of you."

"Unbelievable!" Merlin threw his hands in the air and spun away from her.

He grabbed the rucksack of supplies before he turned back to her. "First off, I got the impression that you didn't care if I was seeing other people. You know, Lisanor and I courted for a grand total of less than a week. As soon as she saw my magic, it scared her, and she wants nothing more to do with me. Between that and the fact I realized I cared more for you than I ever could for any other woman...well, that was the end of that.

"I came back here, not just for a change of clothes, but to check on you, because I was scared for your safety, as something more than 'a friend', Morgana. If this morning was all part of some courtiers game to you, just because you assumed I was with someone else, then I want nothing to do with it." He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes when she just stood before him with a blank look on her face. "You know, forget it. I'll be back… sometime." He called over his shoulder, while he stalked down the hall towards the door.

She heard it slam behind him as he left. Morgana screamed through her teeth and stomped her foot. Her fists clenched in anger at both herself for saying such a thing, and at Merlin for thinking that it was some sort of game to her. She took off running up the stairs to the parapet overlooking the path. "You just wait Merlin! When you return I'll show you how a true noblewoman really plays!"

He gave a very patronizing bow, before he disappeared over the hill on his way to meet Kilgharrah.

Vivienne came up beside her daughter.  She took in Morgana's frazzled state. "What did you do, child?"

Morgana crossed her arms and glowered at the man in the distance.  "Nothing. Yet."

  


	14. A Heady Stew

"What has put you in such a foul mood, young Warlock?" Kilgharrah asked, as they soared through the air. "I thought the visit to your keep would have lifted your spirits."

"It did, old friend. I'm sorry, but…" He sighed heavily. "Oh, never mind. I'm sure you don't want to hear about it."

The old dragon smiled knowingly. "Women, be they human, dragon, or otherwise, have always sought to make a mess and then blame it on a male while they clean it up."

"Are we talking about the Red Dragon or Morgana?" He asked sourly.

"Both, my friend."

They flew along for awhile, each in their own thoughts. Merlin was lost in his contemplation, wondering what Kilgharrah meant. Finally, he felt the urge to ask, "Do you know what she was doing in the Perilous Lands?"

"Trying to set things right by her standards."

"...And did she?"

"That remains to be seen, Merlin. Perhaps we will know tomorrow, perhaps we will never know in either of our lifetimes."

"So tell me, can you change form like she did?"

"Alas, that was a sacred gift... even among dragonkind. It is passed down, it was said, from one dragon to another in order for them to act as an ambassador of sorts to all the smaller races. I fear that the wisdom behind it was lost with her."

"When she died, she told me something. She said 'Hawthorn will be ready for when your time comes'. Do you have any idea what she meant?"

Merlin felt the dragon underneath him tense. "So, that is it then.  Very interesting."

"What? If you know something, please tell me."

"Forgive me, Merlin, but that is a prophecy I am not allowed to speak of... and I ask that you do not order me to divulge its secret.  It is a very sacred knowledge that even I am not fully privy to."

"But, you know what it means." Merlin pursed his lips in frustration.

The rest of the journey was made in silence. The Dragon Lord was trying to figure out why the Red Dragon would decide to be at her most cryptic in her last moments.  Meanwhile, Kilgharrah was putting together the pieces the ancient dragon had worked so diligently towards. Her words finally made sense to him of a future when magic would return to Albion and the great dragon realized how wrong his own interpretations may have been.

* * *

 

"So, what you are really telling me is that you have no idea, whatsoever, about where this Cauldron might be?"

The head of Bran the Blessed, Prince of Corbenic, First Knight of the Fisher King, yawned.  He was bored with the numerous ways Arthur had attempted to ask the same question.  "Off the top of my head...I still have to say 'no.'  For the love of the gods, it won't matter how you try to trick some other answer out of me.  It will still remain the same.  I haven't a clue."

Gwaine laughed, taking entirely too much pleasure in jokes concerning Bran's situation.

After the Dragon Lord had flown off, the others had spent the rest of the night in the seaside castle.  Well rested, they headed out with the early morning light towards what Bran found out was now dubbed the Dark Tower. To him, however, it was still Castle Corbenic...and home.

The return trip had taken them longer than the journey out, and by now they were well into their third day.  

Clarissant was doing her best to keep up.  She was weak and needed to rest more than the healthy knights.  Occasionally, Percival or Gwaine would carry her; trading off between them with the head in a make-shift sling.  As of yet, the King of Camelot hadn't offered to take more than his own belongings, Bran's axe, and the book Taliesin had written.  

Percival could be heard chuckling at a few of the quips, and Arthur acted as if he hadn't heard what was said. Bran truly wondered how someone like Gwaine had survived for so long. The jokes were hilarious at first, but soon grew old after one particular joke.

"Did you hear about the guy that was born without a body?

"Well, he and his mates went out drinking one night and got really wasted.  Suddenly, out of his head popped a body.  So, he had more to drink. Then his arms...so, he has more.  He was amazed when his legs popped out.  He was so excited, he ran out of the tavern into the road...only to be killed by a runaway carriage that he was too drunk to notice.

"His buddies were gasping in shock and yelling for the guards that their friend was just run over. One of the guards comes up and says 'Well, he should have quit drinking while he was ahead.'"*

Scowling, Clarissant scolded her brother and even Arthur began throwing things at Gwaine to get him to shut up.  The jokes did slow a bit.  However, as they walked, to keep himself amused the roguish man began to sing. At one point, Clarissant, while walking next to Percival who was carrying Bran, asked softly.  "Are you sure I can't be locked back up just to get away from him?"

Percival smiled down at her. "Naw, he'll stop after a while.  He typically isn't this bad."

"Ah, it is my presence among you that has caused this," she said, feeling a bit guilty.

Percival laughed, "No, I think it's more the lack of Merlin that has cursed us all to this. Arthur's moods and lack of focus, and your brother's mischief.  I think Gwaine is just trying to show off."

"This Merlin threatens them with his power to behave? I'm surprised he hasn't been killed for such actions against a king," Bran commented, as he listened to the conversation.

"Not at all.  What you both saw of Merlin before he left, was something very rare. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen him so serious, and I've known the man for years. Once he gets his head back on straight, you'll see what I mean." Percival instantly cringed at his own words, and offered an apology to Bran.

Bran ignored it. He wanted to inquire more about this man when his ride suddenly stopped as they came to the top of a cliff overlooking the towers. "Is that smoke down there?" Percival asked. Bran wished he could turn and look. Arthur and Gwaine drew their swords as they came alongside.

"Do you think it's her?" Gwaine asked, his carefree attitude disappearing in light of possible danger. He squinted at the castle in the distance.

Clarissant was once again surprised at the maturity her brother showed in these situations and had to remind herself that they had both been very young when she last saw him.

"Let's move carefully in case it is," Arthur suggested, drawing his sword.

* * *

 

Arthur peered around the edge of the gate first.  His battle-trained eyes scanned the courtyard.

On the far side, next to the door they had been barricaded behind nearly a week before, was the setup of a small camp. A pot was cooking over a fire, but there seemed to be no one around it. He wondered briefly if the bridge keeper had decided to come out of his forest.

"Hey, that smells like…" Gwaine started to say, looking at the king with a twinkle in his eye.

"Merlin's stew!" They both said together, smiling.

Percival came up beside them with a silly grin. "Well, we better get some before he gets back."

They pulled out their bowls and ate quickly, encouraging Clarissant to do the same. Bran could only smell the meal. Gwaine quickly pointed out when Arthur questioned it: "The man hasn't the stomach for it!"

Gwaine piled the remaining stew into a bowl and hid it off to the side. Clarissant was about to protest, when she spied someone hiding in the shadows nearby. The dark-haired man put a finger to his lips, obviously wanting to remain concealed. Once the pot was scraped clean, Merlin came out from his hiding spot with a load of wood in his arms.

"About time you lazy-daisies got here, I thought I'd have to eat all …" He looked down into the empty pot and stifled a melodramatic sigh, as he sat the wood down. "Oy, I see how it is. I save the day, _and_ cook you dinner, and what do I get in return, eh? Merlin doesn't need to eat. 'Hey, who's that dying of starvation on the side of the road?' 'Just a nobody-simpleton who's kept us all alive and well fed for the past eleven years.  He won't mind missing a meal or two.'" Merlin was pacing around, ranting and waving his arms in a flourish.

The three warriors from Camelot were having a hard time keeping their faces straight, as the warlock slid down against the wall and pouted. Arthur finally gave in and brought the bowl over to his cousin.

Merlin looked up at him with a well-practiced roll of his eyes, before he grinned and stretched his legs out. "Naw. I already had some before you lot got here."

"Ooh hoo.  Finally getting smarter, are we?"

"Well, I don't know about you, Sire."

Arthur laughed, glad to see his cousin back in good spirits, and decided not to let the food go to waste. He picked up his spoon, only to stop as Merlin coughed. The king looked down at the scowl on Merlin's face. "What?"

Innocently, the warlock held up his hands. "I didn't say anything, Sire." His blue eyes flicked to Arthur's midsection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *a modified version of a joke I found on the internet


	15. Bran the Blessed

_'Lord,' said his nobles 'you know the peculiarity of this river - it is not possible for anyone to cross it; and nor is there a bridge over it. What is your council concerning the bridge?' they asked._

_'Nothing,' he replied 'expect whoever would be head, let him be the bridge. I myself will be the bridge.'_

_And that was the first time those words were ever said, and it is still used as a proverb today._

_~Second Branch of Mabinogi_

* * *

"Lady Clarissant?" Merlin approached her carefully, knowing that their last meeting did not offer the best of first-impressions.

She looked up at him from washing the supper dishes.  She had offered to clean up, despite her brother's protests, just to have a moment by herself.  Standing in front of her was a completely different man than the one she met in the dungeons four days ago.

He was cleaned up for one, but the most notable difference was in his eyes. Before, they had been filled a shame and sorrow beyond what she thought any man could hold.  Now, there was barely a trace of it. The blue depths spoke of soft kindness and friendship; enough to put anyone at ease in his presence. When he smiled, it was so joyful and innocent that she had to wonder if this was indeed the same man.

She smiled as he knelt next to her.

"This is from the Lady Morgana." He handed her a package wrapped in burlap and tied with twine. On top was a pair of shoes with thick soles for traveling. "Also, I took the liberty of setting up a pail of heated water with a washing rag and a cake of soap for you in a room just off the main hallway for some privacy."

Her mouth was hanging open and her eyes were round with surprise. Her life had conditioned her not to complain about anything, but the thought of being clean and having fresh clothing astounded her. Since the Gwaine come for her she had felt almost uncomfortable with the way these men treated her. Even Bran, in his own way, had shown her a kindness that was completely foreign. Her hands trembled, as she took the package. "Thank you, Sir Merlin."

"No, not a Sir." He cast a glance over his shoulder at the others. "Thank the gods, I'm not a knight. Heaven help us all if Arthur ever tried to do that to me.  Just Merlin is fine. I'll finish up here." His smile was contagious, and he stood, offering a hand to help her up.

She couldn't help but note how he acted more like a servant than a powerful spell-caster. Hugging the gifts to her chest, she had to stop herself from running to the room he mentioned.

She was barely able to contain her excitement as she fumbled with the knot. Inside the package was a simple tunic dyed in blue woad with a matching head scarf; a tan outer corset and a brown skirt, along with some undergarments and a cloak. They were nothing like the fancy style her late husband had kept her in, but after all she had been through they seemed more luxurious than any courtier's dress.  There was also a comb for her hair and a small note accompanied the clothing.

_'I hope these will fit you, as men are notorious for getting sizes wrong. The soap has become one of my favorites since I took up residence in Snowdonia, and I have confidence that you will enjoy the scent as well. Keep the boys in line and don't let them walk all over you. I expect to have the pleasure of your company someday in the future._

_Morgana'_

The soap was sitting on a neatly folded cloth next to the pail, and smelled like nothing she had ever known- a hint of lily and something else exotic, but extremely wonderful. She almost felt guilty using what must have been such a rich gift, but one look at herself pushed the guilt away and she indulged in the ability to feel human once again.

* * *

Merlin carried Bran in one hand and a ball of magical light glowed from the other, as he made his way cautiously up to the throne room. He was careful to avoid the door trap this time.  Although it had not been reset since his last visit, he didn't want to take any chances. The cobwebs and dust clung to every surface.  The throne was still turned to face the back of the hall, instead of the door.

"Well, I suppose this is your throne now," Merlin said, clearing a spot to set the head on. He crossed his legs and sat on the floor next to the massive chair.

Bran sighed and took the measure of the room as his father must have seen it over the years. He closed his eyes and could almost picture it, as it had been centuries before.

Lit candles gleamed from the chandelier that had long since fallen and rusted away. Torches and sconces lined the walls. The throne sat back on its dais, overlooking the lords and ladies as they would laugh and feast. His father would have smiled brightly at all of his children. Bran envisioned his own wife was sitting next to him, and gazing at him with love and adoration. His sister Branwen, so full of life, twisted a handkerchief nervously as she awaited her betrothed's arrival.

The silence stretched as the memories came flooding back. Merlin hardly moved, allowing the prince time to process it all.

Finally, Bran spoke, "Tell me of my father...when you met him."

So Merlin did, explaining Arthur's quest and how he and Gwaine had followed him. He told Bran about the Eye of the Phoenix and how he had received the gift of water from the Lake of Avalon in exchange, allowing the Fisher King to finally find his peace.

"Would you mind telling me how this all happened?" Merlin asked, when he was done. "I need to find that Cauldron so I can save Arthur."

"Your king said it was one of his knights that you needed it for."

"Yes...and no. In order to save Arthur, Sir Leon gave his own life in a way, but they are tethered together with magic.  To save one is to save them both."

"I see. How much do you know already?"

Merlin took a breath and looked down at his hands. "The Red Dragon told me of the Cauldron of Ceridwen, and then Grettir filled us in on a bit of the history as we came into the lands."

"Grettir? That old dwarf is still at the bridge, eh?"

Merlin nodded.

"Well, I suppose that says something about him.  He was there for longer than anyone can remember, and will probably still be there until the end of time." Bran mused on that thought for a moment before beginning his tale to the warlock.

"The cauldron once belonged to Taliesin's family, until it was stolen generations before. He told me once he was actually related to the Goddess Ceridwen, but never told me how."

"I know Taliesin." Merlin said in surprise.  He motioned for Bran to continue.

The Prince of Corbenic found Merlin's phrasing odd. Not that he 'knew of' the bard, but that he simply 'knew' him.

He raised an eyebrow and then realized he would get no more out of the young man at the moment, so he continued on. "It was my sister's wedding to an Irish king that I personally arranged, in order to bring our lands together. My father had been among those who created the Alliance of the Five Kingdoms.  I was in line to be named as High King.

"One of my half-brother's, Efnisien, was upset that he hadn't been consulted about the union.

"He came to us in a fury -- killing and maiming many of the Irish king's horses and injuring many of his men. My father was also injured in the attack. Matholwch was irate at the discourtesy that was shown to him and the only thing he would take as compensation was my father's Cauldron, which had been passed down for generations.

"I knew it held magic over life and death, but did not realize our family's blood was tied to it as protectors of it. After he left with Branwen and the Cauldron I was told about its history. My father was unable to heal from the wound so he called for his sorcerer and bard to heal him. Taliesin offered a spell that would tie my father to the land until the Cauldron was returned.

"As my father lived, the infection in his leg began drawing from the land. Crops began to fail; animals failed to produce, and then I received a message from my sister. Her husband was much like Gwaine's brother-in-law, and she feared for her life and that of her young son.

"I immediately gathered every knight under my command, and we set out for Matholwch's kingdom to bring back Branwen and the Cauldron.  I left my only son as Chieftain over the Seven Elders to rule.

"We arrived in Ireland and Matholwch wanted to have a feast in our honor, to show he held no malice. However, things went bad very quickly.

"My half-brother, still feeling the insult, and paranoid that even the sacks of flour held hidden warriors who were set to ambush us, threw Branwen's son into the fire.  My sister tried to follow her son into the flames, but I pulled her back. Then, the battle started.

"Matholwch had giants under his command who began tossing bodies into the Cauldron.  The dead men came back to life, albeit as something other than themselves. I should have died on that day from a poisoned spear. Taliesin used the Cauldron to save my life, and to save me from waking up as a shade with the unskilled magic the giants were using.

"Someone else, thinking to keep me from the unending torment, or to die painfully from the poison, chopped off my head just as he completed the spell. My seven most faithful companions grabbed my head and fled.

"We were all that survived. My sister was with us but died shortly thereafter of a broken heart. They brought me back to my father. He and the lands were even worse than before. My son was overthrown before we returned.  My wife fled in fear of me and my youngest brother, Manawydan, had gone to sea and was never heard from again.

"My companions stayed for many years after that, until most of them died of old age. Taliesin was with me the longest....at least eighty years. He was changed after he used the Cauldron though.  He began having visions, which he wrote in the book Clarissant has. He never died, nor aged. Then one day, he said his time with me had come to an end and he departed. I have not seen him since."

Merlin chuckled softly, in awe of Bran's tale. Hoping to offer some form of consolation, he said, "Taliesin still lives, in a way. He is the guardian of a place known as the Crystal Caves, where it is said that all magic began."

Bran looked at Merlin appraisingly.  "You shall have to take me there, if you can."

"I'd be honored to, Your Highness."

"So, tell me...what is your story? You seem to have quite the dichotomy about you. One minute you are an equal to the men outside.  The next, you're catering to them and the Lady as a well-trained, albeit mouthy, serving boy."

Merlin threw back his head and laughed, "That is an interesting tale I'm sure.  Although not as great as yours, but for now we should probably get back to them before Arthur starts having a fit. I'm certain we'll have plenty of time for me to tell you in the future."

Bran pursed his lips.  The mystery of the dark-haired Dragon Lord only seemed to grow.

* * *

When she finally emerged from the room clean and refreshed, the sun had fallen behind the mountains, leaving only the dim glow of twilight.

Arthur, Gwaine, and Percival sat around the campfire chuckling, while Merlin and Bran were nowhere to be seen. Percival was the first to spot her, and he felt his heart skip a beat. He stood and offered her a bow. "My Lady."

Her brother gasped in amazement.  "Wow.  Where did you find a prince to kiss you?"  It had been a long standing joke since they were small.

She had once threatened to find a witch to turn him into a frog.  Clarissant then said she'd then feed him to a cat, before any princess could kiss him and turn him back. He had then retaliated by saying that he would have that same witch turn her into a toad, so even if a prince kissed her all he would get from the effort would be warts.

Clarissant shook her head with laughter, when the king reached out and slapped Gwaine on the back of the skull. "Come and join us, if you please," he offered.

"So, where the hell did you get those from?" Gwaine asked.

"Merlin brought them for me." She held out the note to him. "A gift from Lady Morgana. It was quite thoughtful of her, seeing as my brother couldn't be bothered with the idea that I might, at the very least, need new shoes."

Gwaine scowled momentarily before his eyebrows shot up in worry. He turned to Arthur. "You know he hasn't once mentioned her since he got back."

"No, he hasn't. I would have at least expected him tell us she was safe." Arthur sighed and grumbled something under his breath. "How were they when you last saw her?"

The rogue chuckled and raked a hand through his hair. "There was something between them, but neither of them would come outright and say so. To tell you the truth, she seemed to be playing it rather low key for someone so feisty and Merlin...was just Merlin...if you know what I mean."

The king rolled his eyes. He knew full well what it was to be on the receiving end of Morgana's moods, when she didn't get her way.  From the previous talk with Merlin, he felt certain that the lack of acknowledgement meant that something had been miscommunicated. "Well, no one ever accused him of knowing how deal with women."

"Probably because he never had time between mucking the stables, and polishing your armor," Percival said, with a teasing grin.  He'd never fully approved of the way Arthur treated his servant at times, but never felt it was his place to say anything.  Most of the time Merlin seemed to not only accept it, but almost cherish his position as manservant.

"...Or getting thrown in the stocks," Gwaine added, seeing where his friend was heading.

"...Or gathering firewood."

"...Or following you out hunting."

"...Or helping you dress."

"...Or-"

"Alright, I get the point already, thank you both!" Arthur huffed in irritation.  

Just to add insult to injury, another voice popped up, as Merlin and Bran came back into the camp. "...Or just saving your royal backside on a weekly basis, Sire."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to stick fairly close to the tale of Bran the Blessed from the Second Branch of Mabinogi, just because it is so intriguing on its own, that it didn't feel right to deviate too far from it, although I admit I did a bit. Partially to make it fit in my AU Merlinverse with some hints of the Fisher King's story, and also artistic license because the story is rather gruesome in its descriptions. I decided to use the quote from it at the beginning of this chapter not only to set the stage for Bran's story, but also because it seems to fit for Merlin as well. He is in a way the bridge between Camelot and the magical world. 
> 
> www.mabinogi.net/branwen.htm If anyone cares to read the actual tale.


	16. Didot Perceval

The bridge was a welcoming sight to behold.  Merlin stopped as they neared the end and turned around.

Standing with a hand on each rail, he couldn't stop the longing in his heart.  He looked back on what had been gained, and also what had been lost during their trip into the Perilous Lands. He knew they would get through this.  They always had...but the road ahead of them was still a long one.  If Bran's tale was anything to go by, then a trip across land and water to Ireland was in order.  That would take time and planning.

Grettir greeted them all with a welcoming smile, as he laughed uproariously at the state of Bran. "I always told you when you were a youngster to make sure your head was screwed on tight, or you might lose it."

Bran narrowed his eyes at the dwarf. "Aye, but the joke is on you.  It was not my head that got lost."

Offering supper and a respite, Grettir assured them the horses were nearby. Arthur turned and saw Merlin still standing on the bridge. He was about to yell at his cousin when he was interrupted by the short warlock.

"Little one, I think your dada needs you." Grettir crooned softly to a nearby tree.

The others were confused when a small, white-haired girl in a pale, blue dress poked her head around with a shy smile. She carefully made her way between them.  Her footfalls were barely a whisper, as she walked out onto the bridge towards Merlin.

Merlin's reverie was broken when he felt a tug on his jacket.  His eyes widened as he turned and noticed the child, looking up at him with a bright smile. "Hello,  Father."

He felt as if his breath had been stolen from him. "Aithusa?" 

She licked her lips and nodded, reaching up to him. She was immediately swept up in his arms.

Merlin took one last look toward the Perilous Lands and send a silent thank you to the fallen dragon.  He hugged the pale child tightly to his chest, before joining the others at Grettir's camp.

"How did you learn to… and you're talking?" Merlin stuttered.  He wasn't sure which impressed him more as he smiled in amazement.

Aithusa giggled as he sat her down. "Gretty teach me!"

Grettir cleared his throat and looked at her with slight disapproval.

Aithusa stared at her bare toes with a frown.  Then, after a lot of thought said, "Gretty…taught me?"

The short warlock smiled and nodded.

"...And the Lady came to me in a dream, and told me I was going to be…her now. No…was a gift she chose me, but…" She bit her lip in frustration.  Her child like mind couldn't seem to process the right words to use. So, she sent him images of what had been given to her in a dream on the night the Red Dragon perished.

"I understand." Merlin squeezed the child's hand, and dropped a light kiss on her white hair, before turning to Grettir.  He offered the dwarf a grateful smile.

It still pained him that he had been unable to help the young dragon in her first years of life.  He hadn't been able to help Morgana, when she had needed someone either.

The words he had spoken to Gwaine and Gareth outside of Lot's castle rang in his ears. _I am a servant - to Arthur and his destiny._

With the visions of Morgana and Mordred's destinies having passed, he was ready to take some time to get to know the man he wanted desperately to become.  He still need to be at Arthur's side to find the Cauldron, but he no longer needed to wait on the king hand and foot.   

He worried about the knowledge Kilgharrah had hinted at, but resolved to let it be, however difficult it might prove.

The king and knights watched as a new side of Merlin emerged. For a moment, Arthur felt his chest tighten; a touch of jealousy aimed at his cousin.  How such a simple thing like a childish smile could melt a man was something he longed to experience with Guinevere.  His wife wanted a child desperately, as did he.  But short of following the path of his father...Arthur was beginning to wonder if that would actually happen.

It had already been decided that they would journey through Cai's estate to check on Leon, before returning to Camelot.

Arthur wondered about his son.   _Perhaps, he should get to know the boy_ , he thought.  Although his heart was torn, he was worried for Guinevere, and how she would react to the news.

* * *

They set out early the next morning. Grettir bade them a good journey, and informed Aithusa that she was welcome at his bridge any time.  He even offered to teach her to play chess. She hugged him tightly and promised to return.

By midday, they reached a crossroads and split up.  Gwaine, Percival, and Clarissant headed toward Bedfordshire, while Arthur and Merlin, accompanied by Bran's head -- which the king was reluctantly carrying on his horse-- and Aithusa, headed towards Cai's estate. The girl was happily sitting in front of Merlin, begging him to tell her all the stories he knew.

Bran listened intently, as Merlin spoke of his childhood as a serf and his early life in Camelot catering to a very needy prince. Bran could sense there were many things left out, especially when it came to the Lady Morgana who had gifted Clarissant with the clothing.

Arthur would chime in with his own version of events, but as oblivious as he had been previously, he also noted the many discrepancies where his sister was concerned.

It all gave Bran more of an appreciation of Merlin.  Although there were still many things that confused him. "In my time, men like you would have been welcomed at court, even without a title, because of your skill with magic."

Merlin glanced at Arthur who heaved a great sigh. "My father had personal issues with magic," he said diplomatically. "Following my birth came a time known as the Great Purge, where he had attempted to put an end to all things magical. For many years during his reign, he and his allies would hunt down all manner of people, creatures, and objects in order to destroy them."

"Including his own nephew," Merlin mumbled bitterly.

Aithusa glanced up at him.  There was a sadness in her eyes, as she began to understand how difficult his life must have been.

"Yes, even his own nephew." Arthur continued, "That was the reality I was raised in. Many, like Merlin here had to hide and live a double-life of sorts. When I took the throne I had become almost as bad as my father, because of…" He stopped himself, glancing at the dragon girl. "...different situations, where sorcerers and other followers of the old religion were taking revenge on the kingdom."

Bran didn't miss the verbal sidestep, and neither did the dragon girl as she asked quietly, "Like Morgana?"

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't need to completely leave out what was a large part of his life. "Yes, like my sister, Morgana."

"But it wasn't her!" Aithusa protested, "I tried to get it out of her, but it was too strong...and then, we were stuck together in the darkness."

Merlin hugged the girl tightly.  He surprised himself with the feeling of protectiveness for this child. Once again, he found himself silently cursing his destiny. "We know that now. It's not your fault, and because you stayed with her we were able to save her from it."

The warlock wanted desperately to explain how he was the one who started the downward spiral, when Arthur spoke up.

"It was my father's doing. He never acknowledged her as his daughter.  He is the one who drove her mother into hiding and ordered Morgause, as a child younger than you, to be removed from the picture. Unlike me, Morgana never became desensitized to the heartache he brought from his fear and hatred.

"A few years ago, I was given the opportunity to bring an end to some of it.  I was able to allow the druids to live without the fear of persecution. It still took a long time for my eyes to truly be opened.   All this with the worst manservant in the history of the Five Kingdoms, lying to me and making a mess of things, while working silently in the shadows toward that goal."

"Was that supposed to be a sort of compliment?" Merlin asked with a grin. "If so, I'd have to say it was rather backhanded, Sire. But I accept it none the less."

"Are you going to let me finish?"

"Go right ahead, Sire."

"But Bran's head is on his left." Aithusa's blue eyes glanced up with innocent confusion at her father when all three men began to laugh.

Arthur marveled at the child before concluding to his story. "Well, then through a twist of fate, this idiot becomes a noble and my cousin to boot.  Now, I'm left having to change the laws for him, as well as being left without a proper manservant."

"He means he's been leaving his queen to deal with it, while gallivanting all over creation and crying about not having someone who can actually put up with his supercilious arse to follow him around."

"Oh, I don't know.  It seems like I still have an idiot following me everywhere."

* * *

 

Percival, Gwaine, and Clarissant took the road to Bedfordshire. Although reluctant to return to the house that had been her prison for so many years, she wanted to fully close that chapter in her life.   There were also things she wanted to take with her for her new beginning with her obnoxious brother. The minor title her husband held wouldn't be passed to her.  But, as there were no other living relatives, it would remain in her care until the proper time of mourning had passed to be certain she was not with child. After that, she would be left without the status.

She recalled the months after her father's passing and the hardships her mother had faced.

Gwaine felt a sense of unease as he surveyed the house.  It was filled with meaningless treasures meant to inspire the idea of gluttony and prosperity.  "Are we going to have to hire you a wagon?" He asked at one point, as Clarissant began to rummage through various chests.   He knew he would have, if that's what it took to get her out of this, but he didn't relish the thought of it.

"I'm not planning on taking hardly any of it, but I want to get out what I would like, before offering one of Guirom's friends a chance to buy it all."

Percival came into the main room nearly dragging an overly large chest. "I think this is the last of them in that storage room."

Clarissant opened it, hoping he was correct. She let out a huff upon seeing the contents.

"What is it?"

"Not long after we arrived here, Guirom got in his head he could enter one of the melee competitions. Trying to please him, I commissioned a set of armor I felt would look rather dashing." Tears came unbidden to her eyes as she remembered it. She wiped them away with the back of her sleeve. "It arrived the day before the competition. He took one look at it and flew into a frenzy. He said it was too large for him, which was bullocks – he just didn't want to admit he wasn't just tall, but fat as well. He yelled that it was cheap. He knew better, but most of all it was the wrong color.  The week before it had been his favorite.  When he saw it, though, he insisted I was wrong. I don't even remember the next few days after that." 

She could see her brother's fists clenching and his face was flushed with anger. Clarissant felt a course of anxiety welling up inside.  Her mind began falling back into the protective pattern that kept her alive. Logic told her this was her brother...her twin...a part of her soul, but it was becoming overwhelmed by the emotion of facing a man with a temper.

Percival noted the exchange. He knew his friend's fury was at the way Clarissant described her treatment, and Gwaine's inability to take his revenge on her late husband. The large knight moved between them, facing his companion.

"Gwaine, go get a drink," he said, placing a hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

The roguish man seemed to come back to himself, puffing out his cheeks with an exhale and shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Clare, I'm sorry, I just…"

He saw the frightened look in her eyes and it tore at his heart. He felt completely useless to help her. She glanced quickly at him and nodded.   Without another word, he headed down the lane to the nearest tavern.

Percival turned around and smiled at Clarissant. The bruise from Morgause was nearly faded, and she had begun to put on a little weight during their few days of travel. Once cleaned up, he was amazed seeing her standing next to Gwaine.  She was tall for a woman, nearly the same height as her brother. Her face was softer, much more feminine, but it was easy to see the relation between the siblings.

He slowly moved towards her and sat down nearby, but still out of arms reach.

Growing up, hidden from the world by his mother, he had learned how to move softly through the forest so as not to scare the fauna. They were the closest thing to friends he had many days, other than when they would visit the druids for needed supplies. Clarissant reminded him of a beautiful fawn, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible against the threat of predatory animals.  

He drew on his experience and sat quietly, non-threateningly, and waited for her to become comfortable enough to move.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to..." She whispered and began to sob.

"He just feels like he failed you. He would never hurt you." He spoke softly and offered his hand, palm up, to her.

She watched his hand for a moment, before reaching out her own frail fingers to meet him. His hand was as steady and calm, as hers was trembling when she touched the calloused palm. He waited patiently while her hand crossed his, and finally felt her squeeze his hand as she began to feel more relaxed. His fingers curled gently and slowly around hers, offering a soft embrace of his own.

Clarissant let out a sound of release that was half sob, half laughter. "I've never known anyone like you, Sir Percival."

"Nor I, anyone as beautiful as you, my Lady." He smiled warmly at her. "Shall we have a look at this armor if you care to continue? Or else, I will toss it in the street and be rid of it for you."

Nodding, she reluctantly released his hand and reached into the chest. She carefully unwrapped the cloth that had protected the metal plate from scuffs over the years. Percival's eyes widened.  He'd never seen such armor before. The pieces were an amazing vermillion color and exquisitely made.  Although unlike the standard plate or chain of the realm, it did hold some similarities.

"The smith who made these came from a land far to the east and died shortly after crafting them. Guirom never wore them, and he was so upset by it all that he withdrew from the melee."

She had a sudden look of contemplation and studied the armor for a moment before turning towards Percival with an odd expression.  She eyed up his bare arms. "Although not as strong as you, he was a larger man, and the style in which they were created allows for adjustment. You should try them on. I actually believe some of it might fit you."

"I could never accept such a gift," He said humbly.

"Nonsense! It was you who saved me in the dungeon.  It is the least I can do to repay your kindness, and it would be such a shame to let this level of workmanship go to waste."

The large blond man grinned like a child being offered a sweet honey candy. "Well, if you insist.  How can I refuse?"

They had just finished adjusting the last pieces.  Clarissant stood back and eyed him approvingly when Gwaine came rushing into the house.

He skidded to a stop and cocked his head to the side looking at his friend. Gwaine let out a whistle of appreciation. "Wow.  Looks good on ya!"

Percival smiled proudly. He flexed his arms and chest, amazed by the freedom of movement the protective armor offered.  It was much more than his modified chain mail chest from Camelot. He left off the legs as they were rather awkward, and the helm was laughable with its odd styling.  The rest of it -- arms especially -- seemed to fit as if made for him.

"Hate to do this, but you might have to test that armor out sooner than you think." He said, looking rather guilty.

"What did you do now?" Clarissant demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Nothing! Okay.  Well, I might have made a comment to a guy in the pub.  I didn't know he was one of Guirom's buddies!  Since the jackass hasn't been seen in a while, and word got around that I was threatening him on my last visit…we might have company soon." He scratched the back of his neck and tried to look innocent.

Percival shook his head and laughed, "Perhaps you better grab what you can.  I'll go get the horses."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Elaine the sister of Sir Gavain thought much of Perceval ii Galois whom she loved most deeply. And when it became night the knights went to their hostels and to their tents. But Elaine did not become tranquil; instead she called a squire and sent him to Perceval il Galois to tell him that Elaine the sister of Sir Gavain greeted him most nobly and that she desired greatly to see him joust with the Round Table, and she asked that by the faith he owed her he might joust tomorrow before her and that he might be armed with vermilion arms that she would send him. And when Perceval heard this he marveled much and had great joy in his heart, because so noble a damsel as the daughter of King Lot had sent him word that for her love he should arm himself and should go to joust with the Round Table. Then he told the messenger that there was nothing that the damsel asked of him that he would not do for her love, "and I will joust willingly."" (exerpt from Didot Perceval chapter one)
> 
> So there's my twist on some of Didot Perceval For those that are curious – originally I really wasn't sure about Percival's role, however then I started reading more about him. Although, once again there are some inconsistencies between that and various other stories. King Lot's only named daughter was Teneu, but Gwaine only has one sister he didn't meet until later in life named Clarissant who resided in a castle with her mother and grandmother, however Lot's daughter and Gwaine's sister Elaine fell in love with Perceval. *scratches head* And although Gwaine was Arthur's nephew, none of the daughters were related to him…  
> Yeah… so, medieval fan fics. 'nuff said. LOL


	17. Road to Camelot

Cai pressed his forehead against the cool stone on the outer wall of the chapel. He had walked around it, serving as a guardian everyday for the past three weeks since Arthur had left. The druids and Catha were taking good care of Leon, he knew, but it didn't stop the ache in his heart that the man he loved was so close...yet so far away from him. He was beginning to worry that others were taking notice of his odd behavior, especially his brother.

"I thought I might find you down here." A soft melodic voice said from behind him. "The king was looking for you."

"I'm going to accompany them back to Camelot." Cai told his sister flatly.

"After all that happened last time?" Lisanor gasped in surprise. "They come here now, and suddenly Merlin has this odd child with him.  She calls him 'Father', though he made no mention of any child to me before.   When he's not paying attention she looks at me as if I'm evil incarnate. The king is carrying an enchanted talking head.  I can't believe you'd want to leave with them?"

She had always thought of herself as open-minded, but her simple life had been rocked to the core.  She had finally allowed herself to open up to a man.  A simple, goofy, awkwardly handsome man who had no want of gold or power, and before her eyes he had become something else entirely. She had been utterly shocked, despite her brother's warnings.

Cai was trained with a bit of magic for healing, and her family still respected the Old Religion.   However, she was quite happy to return to a somewhat normal routine after all that had transpired.  Although her brother's sullen mood increased with each passing day, knowing he could not enter the temple where Sir Leon's body was kept.

"Lisanor, it is killing me to stay here." He admitted out loud.  "I feel so helpless.  I have to do something. If that means going with them to help find this item they seek, then so be it."

"And what of us?  What of protecting Leon?"

"You and Bedivere, along with the druids, can do that just fine without me here. If I go, then at least I will be feeling like I'm accomplishing something to right this situation. Arthur granted me my knighthood for a reason, perhaps this is it."

He looked into her eyes and she knew there was nothing she could say or do that would sway him from this decision.  She wrapped her arms around him. "Your nephew wishes to accompany you as well. He's come to terms with all of this, more than I think I ever could."

He could tell his sister was most certainly not pleased with the situation. "I think he should. I will watch over the boy and be sure he is well cared for, as I know you will do the same for Leon."

* * *

 

Loholt had been given the task of carrying the severed, yet still alive, head of Bran the Blessed. Despite his mother's protests and his initial anxiety, he actually found it rather fascinating. He still liked Lord Emyrs.  So, after few weeks to reflect on it all, he was rearing to go and discover adventures of his own.  He had already proclaimed that when he was old enough, he wanted to become a knight.

When the men from Camelot came back and his uncle was talking of accompanying them, the boy just about jumped out of his skin with excitement. He pleaded with his mother to let him go as Cai's squire.  With tears in her eyes, she reluctantly agreed.

"I spy with my little eye....something green." Aithusa sat facing backwards, behind Merlin on his bay horse. At first, he had been apprehensive about letting her travel in such a manner and almost ordered her to turn around with his Dragon Lord power.  Cai, much more experienced with children than any of the other men, stepped in; offering Merlin the sage wisdom of 'pick your battles.'

"Trees." All the men chorused together in various states of frustration, quite obviously bored with the child's game that had been progressing for the last few leagues.

"Okay, Loholt, your turn!" She smiled at the older boy, who seemed to be the only one enjoying it as much as she was.

"It was my turn just before yours. I think it's Prince Bran's turn now."

Bran bit back a sigh. He wished the little one could read.  Sadly, his own book was still with Clarissant, and Aithusa's rough handling of Merlin's book -- an ancient tome given to him by the red dragon -- nearly sent the warlock into a panic. Despite the initial protectiveness and love of the girl, it was plainly clear that the only child Merlin was experienced with happened to be the current King of Camelot. Many times,  Bran had watched Merlin biting back one of his snarky comments, or clenching his jaw in frustration.

"Why don't you go stretch your wings for a bit? We'll be in Camelot before the day's out, and you'll have to take extra care around the castle." Merlin suggested, trying to keep the patronizing tone out of his voice.

"No, Father.  We're playing a game. It would be quite rude of me to leave in the middle of it." She responded with the regal tone of a queen.

Arthur nearly fell off his horse with laughter.  He was taking entirely too much enjoyment out of his former servant's misery. The look on Merlin's face was priceless, and he couldn't wait to see Gwen's reaction to Merlin's child.

"Why don't you go ahead and take my turn, little one.  Spot something for me, please?" Bran suggested, expecting her to see something green…again.

"Alright, since you asked nicely." Aithusa looked all around and smiled, "I spy with my little eye, something …red."

"Trees." The others said automatically, not actually hearing her.

The dragon child huffed, "Trees aren't red. Well that one is, but it's not what I saw."

Bran tried to glance at her from his stationary position in the sling on the boy's back, while the others pretty much ignored what was said. He squinted and followed her gaze to the road behind them. "Riders approaching from behind." He called out in a military voice.

"YAH!" Aithusa clapped her hands excitedly. It was followed closely by a sound of disappointment as the horse turned around. She stood and turned on the mare's rump so she could see over her father's shoulder.

"Aithusa, will you sit down."

"...But then I couldn't see!"

"Down.  Now.  In case something happens."  He feared that she would fall off, if they had to run or fight.

She pouted and sat down, but within a millisecond was bored with the view of Merlin's back.  She slid down off the horse, using its tail as a rope,  and was on the ground before he could protest. "I'll go fly and see who it is."

"You will do no such thing!  We don't know who they are, and if they see you…" Merlin snapped at her.

Her bottom lip began to quiver and her face strained as she attempted to hold back the tears. "You tell me to go fly.  Now, you say no," she pouted in her confusion.

Arthur was concentrating on the approaching horses. "Three horses...two riders with Camelot cloaks. I think that's Gwaine and Percival."

"Odd, I thought they would be a few days behind us. I wonder how much damage was done at the tavern in Bedfordshire?" Merlin commented, pointedly ignoring the tantrum Aithusa was preparing to throw.

They waited for the others to catch up and greeted each other warmly. Gwaine caught sight of Aithusa standing in her bare feet in the dirt, sobbing. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" He noticed the tension in Merlin, "Is your daddy not letting you have any fun?"

She shook her head sadly.

Merlin tried to protest, "She can have fun, but I want her to be safe about it."

Arthur pursed his lips, trying to act oblivious.  He cleared his throat. "Nice armor, Sir Percival.  Glad to see you found something that fits finally."

The large knight beamed and cast a shy smile at Clarissant. "Thank you, Sire."

"We should make Camelot before nightfall.  You can tell us about Bedfordshire on the way." The king glanced over to his cousin, who was trying to convince the little girl to get back on the horse.

"Hey, kiddo, want to ride with your Uncle Gwaine? Give the old grouch here a break." She beamed and went running to Gwaine, while Merlin glowered.

Gwaine instructed her to link her hands, with her fingers interlaced and her arms stretched up towards him. He reached down and lifted her joined hands, placing her in front of him.

"Can I ride on your shoulders?"

"No." Came Merlin's immediate response.

Gwaine laughed, "Of course, kiddo!" He lifted her up and held her legs while she straddled his neck.

 

 


	18. Hatched?

"Mother!" Merlin said with a smile on his face as he dismounted in the main courtyard. He embraced her. "I thought you would have gone home?"

"I did," she stated, returning the hug. "A messenger came the day after I got to Ealdor and I had to come back to Camelot."

He looked at her curiously, wondering what could have happened. He felt a familiar tug on his jacket. "I'm actually glad you're here. Mother, I'd like to introduce you to Aithusa."

"The little dragon you told me about?" Her eyes were wide as she watched her son and the girl.

Merlin nodded, beaming with pride. During the ride back to the city, 'Uncle Gwaine' had kept the girl occupied enough to give Merlin a bit of a break and his mood reflected how thankful he truly was for the respite. "She's practically my daughter."

"Well, I guess that makes me your Nana, eh?" Hunith grinned, bending down to Aithusa's level. "I always wondered if I would ever have a grandchild to spoil, and you seem to be the perfect candidate."

The little girl gasped and looked to her father for confirmation before throwing her arms around the older lady with a giggle.

"What brought you back here?" He asked with a bit of apprehension.

She took a breath and waited for the king to join them. "Gaius fell just after I left. He's fine, but he thinks he broke his hip, so has been bed ridden. I came back to assist him as best I could with errands and gathering plants."

Arthur nodded, having already heard the news from Sir Geoffrey, who was waiting at the steps when they arrived. "It seems Guinevere has taken it upon herself to scour the nearby towns for a possible assistant, or if need be...a replacement." The king did well to hide his disappointment at not being greeted by his queen when they had returned. He and Merlin shared a look of concern.

It was sad news, concerning a man they both thought of as a father figure, but they always knew in the backs of their minds that the day would come when the old Court Physician would be unable to work. "Before this last summer, I guess I had assumed I would lose you as my servant to the physician duties someday."

Merlin tilted his head to the side with a sigh. "If I could be in three places at once, Arthur, you know I would do so gladly."

"Go see to him and tell Gaius I will be along after a while. If you can think of anyone who could step up to the job in the meantime, let me know." Arthur turned around without another word and made his way into the castle.

The warlock smiled sadly at his mother and looked down at Aithusa. He'd never been in a position before like this. He wanted desperately to run to Gaius's side, but didn't have a clue what to do with Aithusa. Should he take her with him, or would that be too much for the old physician to handle, especially if she got bored?

He dared not trust her alone with Gwaine.  Although, he could see the knight was busy trying to get his sister's things together so Clarissant could get settled in. Percival was also assisting him, as well as getting updates from the knights, and finding a place for Cai and Loholt in the routine. Arthur was completely out of the question, and by the look on George's face as he was given the sling carrying Bran, the servant clearly had his hands full.

As if reading his mind, Hunith offered an obvious suggestion. "I think my new grandbaby and I need to get better acquainted. You run along and we'll meet back up with you for supper."

"You behave," he warned the girl. He kissed his mother on the cheek and Aithusa on top of her head before heading towards the physician's chamber. 

* * *

 

The old physician slumbered on his bed behind the folding screen. Merlin came in quietly after receiving no response to his knocking at the door. In just the few weeks he'd been gone, Gaius looked much older than he remembered. Sitting in a chair next to the bed, the warlock leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. He carefully adjusted the blankets around the old man with his magic, as he had done so many times before.

He just sat there, at a loss as to what to do. He knew that someday age would finally catch up to the physician, who seemed at times as old as Camelot itself.

After a few moments of quiet, Gaius began to stir, moving restlessly and in obvious pain. Merlin grabbed a nearby tincture; opened it to smell the contents as a precaution before holding it to Gaius' lips. "It's alright.  Take it easy, old friend. Here, drink this up."

Gaius drank it down before realizing who it was with him. "Merlin, my boy," he said breathlessly with a smile. "When did you get here?"

"Just a bit ago. Mother told me you took a fall. May I take a look?"

Gaius nodded.  Merlin lifted the blankets and his robe to probe the hip and leg. "Did you find what you were looking for?" He asked hopefully.

"Not quite." He watched Gaius' face and noted when he flinched, as Merlin hit a particularly tender spot. He kept talking while he examined the injury. "We did manage to meet some other rather interesting people. One of whom knows about the Cauldron first hand."

Merlin began putting the robe and blanket back over Gaius.  Not being a fully trained physician, he didn't want to assume anything.  However, what he did notice wasn't a good sign.

"And did the fair Lisanor return with you?" The physician asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Sitting back in the chair, Merlin shook his head. "No, but I don't blame her. We almost lost Arthur and Leon at one point after we got to the temple.  I had to call for help and she took an awful fright from it."

Rheumy eyes misted over with compassion.  Gaius understood more than most the turmoil within his ward. "You must not blame yourself, or her."

"I don't. She's been sheltered most of her life by her brothers." Merlin paused for a moment. "I think if I was in her shoes, I'd have felt the same." He offered Gaius some water to drink and a bit of bread that was sitting on a nearby table before telling Gaius more of the story, mainly the parts of Bran and Clarissant.

After a while, Gaius finally looked at Merlin with his eyebrow raised higher than normal. "While I have enjoyed your tale Merlin, I am still waiting for you to tell me the prognosis."

Merlin bit his lip. "Well, it's healing. But I don't think it was set right.  So, once you start getting up and about…"

"I may not have the mobility I once did?"

Merlin nodded.  It was a mild understatement, and they both knew it. "Since it's been a few weeks, you should be sitting up more and trying to move already. Don't want you to get infected bedsores on top of it."

Just then, someone knocked on the door. Merlin called for the person to enter.

Aithusa came bounding in with Hunith following just behind. "I missed you, Father!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around Merlin's neck.

Gaius had an amused, but very curious look on his face. "Father?" He questioned his ward.

Merlin blushed, "Uh, yeah.  Remember the egg from the tomb of Ashkanar?"

Gaius nodded.

"Well, this is Aithusa."

She turned to Merlin and whispered loudly, "He's so old!"

Gaius laughed, "Yes I am, my dear. It's not a secret." He glanced at Merlin with a question behind his eyes that he was too polite to ask out loud. He made a note to inquire about this dragon-turned-child at a more appropriate time.

* * *

Two days later, the castle was buzzing with gossip as the queen and her entourage came into the courtyard. Arthur held up his arms to catch her as she slid from the horse, kissing her passionately. "I'm so glad you're home!"

She smirked, breathless from the kiss. "It is good to be home as well, my husband. How did the trip go?" The king's mouth shifted back and forth, his head tilting to one side then the other, a clear indication that something had happened. "Well, let me go get cleaned up and then I'll meet you in your solar so you can tell me all about it."

* * *

An odd feeling permeated the atmosphere, as Gwen made her way to Arthur's chambers. Her servant seemed nervous while she had helped the queen bathe and dress.  When Gwen inquired about it the response she received was wholly unsatisfying. "You should speak to the king, m'Lady. Not my place to say."

Gwen opened the door without knocking and took a few steps in.

Arthur was waiting with a bunch of flowers and a guilty smile. He picked her up in a hug and kissed her before she could ask.

"Ahem."

Breaking the kiss, Gwen looked about the room and didn't see anyone at first. She nearly fainted when a head, sitting on Arthur's desk, smiled at her and blinked.

She stared at it, biting her tongue between her teeth and she forced herself to smile. Her dark eyes glanced at her husband. "Arthur, why is there a head on your desk?"

"Ah, yes." The king cleared his throat and began the introductions. "This is Prince Bran of Corbenic...or what is left of him. Bran, may I present my wife, Queen Guinevere."

"My Lady." The head closed his eyes for a moment, in the closest approximation he could achieve to a bow.

"Pleasure to meet you...I think," Gwen stated haltingly through her false smile. She grabbed Arthur's arm and led him closer to the door.  She was a bit disturbed. "That doesn't explain why there is a head on your desk?"

"Well, this is the safest place for him currently, other than the vaults," Arthur sighed.  He had known this was going to be a long explanation. "Look, George was supposed to be attending to him, but between serving me and conspiring with Merlin-- which I still haven't worked out what that's about -- he wasn't able to keep Aithusa from taking Bran on her own little quests through the castle. None of the other servants will go near him."

The queen couldn't blame them.  She glanced over at the desk. The way Arthur stood in front of her said there was more to the story, and she couldn't wait to hear it. "Go on."

"Merlin has been rather busy picking up Gaius's duties.  So, he hasn't been able to watch her, and although Hunith has tried, she's been occupied taking care of Gaius, as well. Gwaine offered to take Bran out on patrol with him, but Percival and I felt it would be a bit much if they ran into any trouble. Lady Clarissant offered to keep him and also help with the girl, but once again, Aithusa thought it would be fun to play hide and seek. When we finally found Bran, his head was on the roof of the west tower." The king cringed at the memory. "In order to keep Aithusa from getting him, I offered for Bran to stay here in my quarters...for the time being."

Gwen stood there, chewing on the side of one of her fingers while her mind tried to process all that her husband said. "...And who are Lady Clarissant and Aithusa?"

"Merlin's daughter and Gwaine's sister," Arthur stated, as if that answered everything. "Or, actually, the other way around."

"Merlin has a daughter?" She leveled a gaze on him that spoke of how she clearly thought her husband had lost his mind. As far as Gwen knew the Lady Lisanor didn't have any children, and beyond that it was too soon for something to have happened where Merlin could have a daughter able to run around chaotically.  Unless there was something her friend had not told her...or there was magic involved. Which in hindsight with Merlin, was a real possibility.

"Correct."

"Since when did Merlin have a child?" She decided to ask.

"I think she's about five, but it's hard to say."

Gwen pursed her lips to contain a nervous chuckle at how incredulous the entire situation sounded, "Merlin has a daughter, but doesn't know how old she is?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Well, of course he knows. He's the one that hatched her."

The queen took a step back from her husband, her eyes widened. "Hatched?"

Wiping a hand over his face, Arthur realized a bit that he had left out. "Um…because she's a dragon and he's a Dragon Lord.  He 'hatched' her."

"As in: sat on the egg to warm it before this 'little girl' came out?"  Gwen wondered if she was dreaming.

Arthur gazed off into the distance, a look of minor disgust coming over his face. "You know, I never asked that part."

"Actually, I think a Dragon Lord finds the name and just calls the dragon from its shell." Bran offered, feeling a bit forgotten.

Gwen pursed her lips and took another look at the head. She suddenly burst out laughing, "So, Merlin hatched a dragon, who is causing havoc by stealing the head of a prince, and running loose through the castle?"

"Yes, thank you." Arthur was too relieved to notice the patronizing tone in his wife's voice. "Please tell me you found a physician so Merlin can go back to keeping an eye on her?"

"Possibly." She shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around it all. She had left just a week before.  Hearing Arthur's tale made her wonder how long all the antics had been going on. "When did you all return?"

"Two days ago," Arthur deadpanned.


	19. Like Minds

Gwen stepped out of her husband's chambers after agreeing to meet him for supper later.  She could tell he was disappointed when she excused herself from the room, but the talking head was almost too much for her.

Standing with her back to the door, she placed a hand on her chest feeling her heart beating erratically. "Come on, Gwen.  Pull yourself together. This is just a dream...You'll wake up and still be in the camp heading home. Yes, it's all a very odd dream..." She spoke quietly to herself, wishing she could believe her own words.

Just then, a slip of a girl came bounding around a corner. She had long, straight white hair, pale skin, and eyes as blue as the sky with a simple dress to match. She stopped in front of the Queen. "Have you seen Prince Bran?"

"Uh...no, I haven't," Gwen lied. "Are you Aithusa?"

The girl nodded, looking completely disheartened, "Who are you?"

"I'm Queen Guinevere, but you may call me Gwen." She smiled and held out her hand to the girl. Something about the child seemed so unnatural, like a fairy or a spirit. Gwen concluded that she must certainly be dreaming.

"No, dreams are different." The girl said in a soft voice.

Gwen eyed her warily. "Did you just read my mind?"

Aithusa gasped, suddenly on the verge of tears. "Gretty told me not to! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, but it was so strong."

"Well, since you apologized, I shall forgive you, child. I thought for certain this was some weird fantasy." She didn't understand why, but seeing the vulnerability in the small girl compelled Gwen to actually believe her -- more so than Arthur's crazed explanation.

Aithusa shook her head.

"Well then, perhaps we should go find Merlin. Hopefully he can explain everything better than my husband did."

"He's too busy." The girl pouted, "He always is."

Gwen felt her heart melt. She smiled at the child and held out her hand. "Well, as of right now, I'm not. So, come along.  We'll find Merlin and put him straight."

Aithusa grinned, her face lighting up as she took the hand. "Morgana said you were nice, but the darkness didn't like you, at all. But, I think I do!"

The queen chuckled, "So you know Morgana?"

Aithusa nodded, holding onto the queen's hand as they made their way down the hall. "We've taken care of each other for a LONG time."

"Is she like a mother to you then?"

The girl stopped and her eyes widened. "Do you think she would be?" Aithusa gasped as a thought hit her. She pulled the queen down and whispered in her ear. "Maybe they could get married, and then I could have both a mother and father!"

"Well, I'm not sure about that. I believe Merlin is seeing someone else."

"Not anymore." Aithusa grinned darkly.

Gwen was acutely aware that there was more to this child than it appeared.  Remembering that Arthur told her Aithusa was a dragon, she kept her features schooled and forced her mind to be still so the girl wouldn't 'hear' her thoughts.

"She was weak.  When she tried to talk to Father, I told her not to or I'd eat her." The girl's face fell, becoming rather nervous. "Please, don't tell father! He might be mad at me."

"I won't." Gwen assured the girl, secretly knowing that there were other ways to pass on the information. "Let's go find Merlin though and see what he's up to today, shall we?"

* * *

 

"Now, don't forget the lovage and geranium for Lord Everett's headaches." Gaius said from his bed. "Oh, and be sure to only use the roots of…"

"...Of the valerian.  Yes, Gaius. I do remember what to do." Merlin couldn't help but chuckle at his mentor.

With a solemn promise to not cause trouble, Aithusa was allowed to wander around and explore on her own for a while, as no one could seem to keep up with the girl. For Merlin, it felt good to be back to helping out the old man, even if it was just taking orders and assuring Gaius that he was still competent in his duties. His mother was off in the Lower Town market to restock some of the physician's supplies.

Aithusa came bursting through the door. "Father! Look who I met!"

"Who's that?"

"The queen!" She smiled brightly. Gwen came through the door behind her.

Merlin grinned, "Your Majesty."

Gwen scowled teasingly. "Merlin, what have I told you?"

"Not to call you that?"

"Precisely. You have a darling little girl here, you know."

"Yeah, she is pretty special."  He sent a wink towards Aithusa. He was happy to see her trying to behave herself in the physician's quarters for once, even if it was just to impress the queen. "I was just getting ready to head out to deliver some remedies," he said apologetically.

"You're not a servant anymore, Merlin.  You need to learn how to manage others." Gwen went back to the door and caught a passing servant, instructing him to take the potions.

They all listened as Merlin gave an explanation of which one went to who.

Once the boy was on his way, she sat down on a bench and lifted the girl into her lap. She wanted to say hello to Gaius, but the old man was sound asleep, having nodded off sometime in the past few minutes.

"So, what brings you here? I figured you would be saying 'hello' to your husband."  He smirked at his own inuendo.

"I did, and well...I was a bit lost with his explanation of everything. I decided I would come to you for some clarity." She spoke carefully, keeping her thoughts away from the magical head on Arthur's desk.

Merlin chuckled, "Sorry, I was a bit too swamped here to write him a proper speech on how to present you with the situation."

"You don't need to do that for him." She laughed, "He does need to learn how to accomplish such a task on his own one day."

"Well, from what I hear, you've become quite proficient at speech writing."

"Indeed!" She smiled at the compliment.

"I'm guessing you didn't just come here for me to verify it all?"

"No. I think this precious little one has given me enough assurance to be sure that I wasn't imagining things."

Aithusa beamed up at the queen.

"Actually, I wanted to come speak with you and Gaius because I feel I have found a worthy candidate."

"I feel a 'but' coming…" Merlin smirked, wondering what the catch would be.

Gwen sighed, "The woman refuses to come to Camelot. She has been traveling around some of the border villages, and only came to one of the closer ones because her skills were desperately needed. Everyone that I have spoken with thinks very highly of her abilities."

"What is her name?" Merlin didn't know all of the healers, but through Gaius, he had met a few over the years.

"Alice, I believe." She heard Merlin's sharp intake of breath, and became curious. "What is it?"

Merlin blew into his cheeks, his eyebrows rising up to meet his hairline. "Alice is one of the best healers anywhere. She and Gaius studied together."

"However?" The queen prompted.

"She's a wanted fugitive," he muttered.

"Oh." Gwen digested this information. "...And her crime?"

The warlock realized there was no way to say it other than straightforward. "Magic.  Poisoning the king.  Escaping the dungeons."

"I'm guessing you mean Uther, not Arthur?"

Merlin nodded, "In her defense, she was under the control of a manticore at the time."

"What's a manticore?"

He thought for a few moments of how to describe it. "Nasty creature of the Old Religion.  There's no other way to put it. Gaius and I had to use our combined magics to draw it out and defeat it."

"So, Gaius does have magic?" Gwen questioned with a raised eyebrow. She had suspected as much, yet no one ever came out and admitted it to her until now.

Merlin nodded, "If we can somehow get Arthur to agree to pardon her, she would be amazing to have around." He shot a look over at the old man. "I know Gaius would be thrilled. Also, she is probably the only one who could really heal him now."

"Have you tried your magic?" Gwen asked, hopeful that Merlin could do something.

"I did, but I'm none to good at the healing stuff. I think if I had been here sooner…The bones have already begun to set, and I'm worried I'd cause him more harm and pain than anything." Merlin smirked, "They were engaged before the purge."

The warlock turned back to the queen and a strange soft expression came over his face. "What is it?" Gwen asked, before noticing he was looking at the girl in the queen's lap...sound asleep.

"I don't think I've ever seen her so quiet and content. I can go lay her down in the other room." He started to rise.

"Nonsense.  She is perfectly fine right here," Gwen stated, waving Merlin back to his seat. She smiled with longing at the delicate girl in her lap.

"You're a natural."

The queen's lips thinned and she looked away, blinking back tears. "I keep hoping that…"

Merlin put a hand on hers. "You will, someday.  I'm sure. But for now, any time you want to practice being a mam, feel free to. I've pretty much come to the conclusion that I'm rather a terrible parent."

"I doubt that. I mean, look at how Arthur turned out.  You practically raised him, didn't you?" She smirked, biting her lower lip.

"Yeah, look at him." He spouted cheekily, "Somehow that really doesn't help my confidence in the situation."

They both attempted to keep their laughter low so as not to wake either Gaius or the sleeping dragon.


	20. Dinner Discussions

"Now, I need you to be on your best behavior. No running around. No magic…"

"No fun.  Yes, Father. You already told me," Aithusa said with an exasperated sigh.

The girl had woken in the old cot that used to be Merlin's.  She had been sad that the queen had left while she had slumbered. Her father was bent over a book, while her nana and the old man were conversing near the fire. She asked if she could go find the queen to play, to which Merlin said no, because she needed to get ready for dinner. They would be dining with royalty tonight.

As exciting as that was, her enthusiasm diminished when a maid came in with new clothes, and to Aithusa's horror...shoes for her to wear.

She enjoyed the dress.  It was a green silk like something Morgana would wear.  The skirt was layered in a gossamer lace that seemed to float around her. Yet, her feet felt confined and cramped. She wondered how humans could stand such things. Reluctantly, she had agreed to leave them on...at least for a little while.

Merlin sighed and took her hand, as the guards opened the doors to the Dining Hall.  Once inside, they were guided to their seats.  Merlin sat to the right of King Arthur, and she was offered the seat next to the queen on Arthur's left. Gwaine had returned from his short patrol and he sat next to the girl, despite Merlin's protests, while Clarissant was given the seat next to the warlock.

Even Bran's head was sitting on a pillowy tray between Merlin and Arthur, which didn't appear to diminish the appetites of the men, though Gwen merely picked at her food.  

The talk was kept light with highlights of their adventures, and Gwen caught them up on the kingdom while they ate. There was a comfortable feeling of normality and family, as they sat together. Everyone silently noticed how Gwen assisted Aithusa, most of the time without conscious thought.

Arthur inquired about the search for an assistant for Gaius. The queen told him that she might have found someone, but there were a few complications. Merlin purposely distracted Arthur, telling him that he would go into more details at a later time.

Near the end of the meal, Aithusa started fidgeting.  She was bored of the grown-up talk. Of course, Merlin noted, so was Gwaine.

The roguish knight leaned over and whispered something in the girl's ear. Her eyes and mouth were wide with excitement. "Father, can Uncle Gwaine and I go to the tavern?"

Merlin was completely dumbstruck by the request.  His eyes narrowed at Gwaine.

Arthur smothered a laugh behind his hand.  "You had to have seen that coming, Merlin!"

"A lady does not go to the tavern, Aithusa." The queen admonished, before Merlin could respond.

Aithusa's mouth formed an 'o.'  "What does a lady do then?"

"Well," Gwen started, folding her napkin across her plate. "We learn how to act properly, to draw our letters, and how to treat others with respect."

"That doesn't sound like fun." Her little arms were folded across her chest.

"Do you know your letters, child?"

Aithusa shook her head.

"Well, then how are you supposed to read a book, or write a letter to someone?"

Clarissant smiled across at the girl. "I love to read books. You can learn so much by reading."

"Like magic in my father's book?"

"Yes, like in my magic books." Merlin grinned, catching on to where Gwen was heading. Teaching her to read sounded like a plausible idea as a means to getting Aithusa to sit still for more than a few seconds at a time.

She looked around at all of them. "Will one of you teach me?"

"I think..." Arthur leaned forward, surprising them all. "...that perhaps Geoffrey of Monmouth would be the best to instruct you. He is, after all, Camelot's Record Keeper...or perhaps he would know of a tutor better suited for one your age."

"Can I go right now?"

"' _May_ I go...'" Gwen corrected.  

"May I?"  Aithusa repeated.

"I don't see why not, if your father says it's alright. Just remember to ask politely, though. Don't pester Sir Geoffrey about it, as he can be a bit of a grump at times...and you must be respectful and listen to his instruction with attentiveness. Can you do that?" Gwen asked as she laid out the rules.

Aithusa nodded eagerly.

"If you don't mind, I would like to speak to your record keeper as well." Bran mentioned.

After finding out from Merlin that there was very little in the way of written records about Corbenic, he was looking for a way to rectify it. "Perhaps if this Sir Geoffrey is up to the task I can dictate my kingdom's history to the man."

"Come on, Prince Bran. I'll carry you!" Aithusa said, bouncing up out of her chair.

"Aithusa, aren't you forgetting something?" The dragon girl gave a confused look at the queen. "When leaving the table before anyone else, a Lady always asks to be excused."

" _May_ I be excused?" She batted her eyelashes and smiled at her father.

Merlin smirked and nodded. Aithusa ran to Bran's head and scooped him up. Arthur motioned for one of the guards along the wall to escort them to the Hall of Records.

Gwaine began laughing after they left the room.  Reaching under the table, he came back up with a pair of shoes.

"What made you think it would be a good idea to take her to the tavern?" Merlin started in on him.

Clarissant snickered next to the warlock. "I think he was just trying to get a rise out of you."

"Oh, he knows it, Clare. I swear I love ya like a brother, Merlin, but you do need to relax sometimes."

"I asked you to stop calling me that," Clarissant responded testily.

Merlin smiled at her and muttered, "At least I'm not the only one he chooses to annoy."

"Ha!  You both are so easy to tease. Although, I think I will head down and get me a pint. Sister dear, would you like to join me?"

"I actually think I will, thank you. Your Majesties. My Lord."  She curtsied, excusing herself to follow her brother.

The remaining three sipped their wine and glanced at each other before bursting out in laughter.

"That girl is quite a handful, isn't she?" Gwen finally stated, as she picked up the small shoes.

"You're telling me? Oy! I thought I was going to go mad on the ride back."

"I can only imagine what the Lady Lisanor was thinking." Gwen noted off-handedly.

"What do you mean?" Merlin leaned forward, suddenly curious.

The queen covered her mouth and looked contrite. "I promised not to tell you."

"Did you promise not to tell me?" Arthur asked with a quirky grin.

Pursing her lips momentarily, Gwen seemed to think about it. "As a matter of fact, I didn't." She looked at her husband, suddenly acting like Merlin wasn't even in the room. "She said something about Lisanor wanting to speak with Merlin at one point, but then Aithusa threatened to eat her."

"Oh good grief!" The warlock exclaimed, "That explains that then."

When they had first arrived back at Cai's estate, Lisanor had been friendly, if still a bit awkward towards him. He knew their relationship was over after their last parting, but it was nice to see her smile once more. Then, she had suddenly become cool and even acted a bit frightened.  

Merlin silently cursed women in general, thoroughly confused by their reactions.

Arthur was rolling with laughter. "Well, if she couldn't handle your magic, she was certainly not a match for a dragon.  Even one that small."

"...And one who thinks of Morgana as the closest thing she has to a mother. I pity any woman who might get in her path." Gwen chuckled, taking another sip of wine. 

Arthur smirked, "Morgana as her mother.   That could be interesting."

"Not going to happen." Merlin said flatly, rolling his eyes.

Gwen sat back and looked at him oddly.  She wondered if something was going on between Merlin and Morgana.

Arthur backhanded his cousin in the arm. "What did you do? I arrange for your big dragon friend to take you home for a bit, and then you haven't said two words about Morgana since your return."

"Let's just say you were right.  Although, I will deny saying that until my dying breath."

"Oh, come now.  You must tell us what transpired," the queen pleaded.

Merlin closed his eyes and pursed his lips.  He didn't want to get into the details, but he knew they would be relentless until they found out.

"Fine. After we saved Clarissant and Bran, your husband sent me home on the back of a dragon to recover. Things were good, quiet...wonderful even...until I got ready to leave. She and I were getting along _very_ well. I go to kiss her goodbye and suddenly she stops me saying..." His voice changed to a falsetto, mimicking Morgana. "It was a moment of weakness. Lisanor doesn't need to know about it."

"Weren't you courting Lisanor?" Gwen knew there had to be much more to all of this, but chose to ask one of the lighter questions. Whatever took place to save them must have been devastating as Arthur wouldn't send Merlin away without reason.

"No.   She'd already broken it off with him," Arthur said. His mind caught up to Merlin's words and he felt a flush of anger. "Wait.  What do you mean 'moment of weakness?'"

"Nothing," Merlin mumbled.

The king picked up his goblet and threatened to throw it.

"No!  We didn't do anything like that. I swear, Arthur.  I did not do _that_ with her."

"Then, what _did_ you do?"

Gwen laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Just let him continue his story."

She had been Morgana's maid for years, and understood what Morgana was capable of. Although, she knew enough that those things would only occur if it was someone Morgana really liked to begin with. The former Lady of Camelot had always been an awful tease that sometimes went a bit too far for Gwen's sense of decency.

"Well, except for once when I was speaking to her through a scrying bowl, I never even mentioned Lisanor.  Even then, the only thing I said was that I escorted her to the ball.

"Then, of course, Lisanor broke it off before we even left for Mercia.  So, I didn't think anything about it when I went back there, you know. I had plenty of other things on my mind.   Morgana didn't say anything either, until I get ready to leave.  She starts in on me, smiling coyly the whole time." Merlin took a deep breath and threw his hands in the air with frustration. "I think I'll just stick with raising Aithusa and looking after this prat." He said, indicating Arthur. "Women are definitely not worth the headache.  No offense."

"Well, you have until spring to figure out how to deal with her. Bran indicated the last known whereabouts of the Cauldron was in Ireland. If I recall what the captain of Annis' ship said, there are some small ports north of Dinas Emyrs.  I assume that will be the best area to hire a ship and cross from.

"The roads would be too treacherous this late in the year to venture that way, and I doubt we'd be able to get you on a ship in bad weather," Arthur teased, recalling what Gwaine told him of Merlin's seasickness.

"I appreciate that." His cousin said gratefully.

"Then, I shall start making plans," Guinevere stated.

The king glanced at his wife in confusion.

"Well, it's high time I had a holiday, as well.  So, don't even begin to think you're leaving me behind this time. I want to see how Morgana is doing for myself, as well as this keep Merlin is so keen on.  I can stay there while you all sail off."

"Alright, change of subject." Arthur said, not wanting to argue with his wife about traveling. "Tell me about this healer you found."

Merlin and Gwen looked at each other for a moment, their eyes battling to see who would be forced to talk first. Merlin gave in. "Well, she's an amazing physician -- both with science and with magic from what I know."

"I see.  So, what seems to be the issue."

"It's Alice."

"Who?" Arthur's face was blank, not recognizing the name.

Merlin shrank back in his seat and clarified, "Gaius' lady friend who tried to poison your father."

Arthur glared at them both.  "What?"

He continued to glower as Gwen and Merlin explained the situation. The king sat back thoughtfully. "Can you swear to me that it was under the influence of this creature that caused her to act?"

Merlin nodded.

"Alright. I want you to take Sir Cai with you and head out tomorrow to find her. Bring her back to Camelot discreetly.  Sneak her into the castle if you must. I wish to meet with her personally before I make my decision. I also want everything you know about this beast. Perhaps, she can at least help Gaius."

"...And if you don't believe her?" Merlin asked. He didn't want to convince Alice to return to Camelot to end up facing the headsman's axe for treason against the former king.

Arthur seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Then, hopefully she'll have at least healed Gaius, and will be banished from Camelot. I won't execute her when I am the one inviting her to come."

 

 


	21. History of George

George prided himself on being overly efficient. He made certain that everything he touched was cleaned within an inch of its life. Those in his care never had to ask for anything.  He anticipated their needs to a fault...but there was never any pleasing King Arthur it seemed, as he felt something hit his back.

It took every ounce of his patience not to react. Even when he was handed the talking head of Prince Bran, he had barely flinched.

During the reign of King Uther, there had never been so much chaos allowed in the kingdom. Arthur, however, was completely different from his father.

The first four years since Arthur had been crowned, the changes were subtle. First, the druids were no longer hunted down. George happily accepted that change, as it gave him easier access to roots he preferred to use for polish mixtures. Fewer people were tried or convicted of sorcery. The army was strong; prosperity had come to the land; new alliances formed.  It was a nice change from the fear and tyranny of Uther's rule.

The servant cringed remembering when he had first been assigned to the castle staff.  His father had been Uther's personal servant for years and it was expected of George to train to be the prince's servant. Then, came the day George actually met Arthur.

There were five young men lined up and awaiting inspection from the head of staff, the king, and Prince Arthur himself. George's uniform was spotless.  He stood with his back straight, head held high, hands folded properly behind his back.

No one could say that of the other candidates. Yet, the prince decided on someone else.

A week later they were back in line, waiting again for the prince to choose between the four remaining potentials. Another of the 'slackers', not nearly as proper as George, was chosen.

Another week and George was certain the position would be his...only to be disappointed again. He had even tried to use one of his best jokes to get the Prince's attention.

_A young man asked an old, rich man how he had made his money._

_The old guy fingered his worsted, wool vest and said, "Well, son, it was the year 532 --The depth of the Great Purge. I was down to my last coin. I invested that in an apple. I spent the entire day polishing the apple and, at the end of the day, I sold the apple for two coins._

_"The next morning, I invested those two coins in two apples. I spent the entire day polishing them and sold them for four coins. I continued this system for a week, by the end of which I'd accumulated a good amount of 254 coins."_

_"So that's how you made your fortune?" The young man asked._

_"Nonsense, then my wife's father died and left us an entire orchard!"_

Arthur just stared at him with a sneer of disgust on his face.

George gulped and the prince moved onto someone else.

A month later, there were six young men standing and waiting. This time the king was absent from the selection process, and the prince chose a portly boy to be his new servant.  By that time people had begun to understand the position was more 'training dummy' than servant.

The stout young man that was chosen that day now walked with a limp, and would do so for the rest of his life.

Time and again other candidates were picked until only two men stood before the prince.

George and Morris both came from families who had served nobility for generations and both thought it would be an amazing honor to be the manservant for the Prince of Camelot. Although the rumors of how spoiled, asinine, and -- as Merlin later coined, 'supercilious' -- the prince was, began to spread through the kingdom.   No one had missed the constant call of the court physician to the training field, and it left both of the remaining potentials uneasy.

 _No,_  George thought correcting himself.  _Morris appeared downright petrified_.

The mousy perfectionist finally thought he would get his chance to prove himself and perhaps excel beyond any of the former servants.

Arthur looked at both of them. "You're the one who made that bloody awful joke aren't you?" He had asked George.

"Indeed, Sire. However, I do have much better anecdotes than that one, if you care to hear any." He smiled feeling like the choice was in the bag.

Instead, Arthur chose Morris.

It was the worst day of young George's life.

His entire career went down the drain. What other noble would want a washed-up has-been who was rejected by the prince?

He secretly glared at Morris every time he laid eyes on the man, not noticing how overworked and bruised the other man was. Until one day, nearly three weeks into his tenure, Morris confided to George over some watered wine one evening that he was considering running away from Camelot.

"I swear if Prince Arthur so much as throws a look at me tomorrow, I'm out of here!" He exclaimed, much to George's secret delight.

The following day it was more than just a look thrown.  It was daggers, while poor Morris was carrying a shield.

Until a stranger stood up against the prince.

Morris followed through with his threat however, and left Camelot a few nights later following a rather eventful performance by the Lady Helena.   George thought the coveted position of manservant would be open once again.

The prize would be his, this time!

The new boy, Merlin, had been a hero not only to poor Morris, but to Prince Arthur as well.  George smirked and mused that the simple country boy wouldn't last a week.  He was shocked as the weeks turned into months, and then into years.

George got his chance to prove himself on a few occasions, becoming the fill in for all the times he thought Merlin was slacking or had been fired. Of course there was that other, very unkempt slimy bootlicker for a few days somewhere in between, but Cedric disappeared soon after that.

It wasn't until last spring that George finally obtained the role he felt he was destined for. At first, it caught him off guard to be summoned to bring breakfast for not only the king, but Merlin as well. Yet, he didn't question his good fortune when he was told the news that the long-time manservant would be leaving the city for an undetermined amount of time.

Unfortunately, that was also when realization finally struck...along with a goblet to his temple.  Perhaps George had been blinded by his lust for the job. It was the highest rank any servant could hope for.  Following in his father's footsteps as the personal assistant to a king, however, was certainly not all it was cracked up to be. On top of all the stories and headaches, he was constantly being compared to Merlin.

Today was one of the quieter days when George could actually get his work done. They were few and far between when the king was in residence.  The month after Arthur's return from the north was the worst month of George's life.  He found himself reflecting on it as he swept for dust under the royal bed.

Four days ago, before the king had returned from Mercia, the chamber had been spotless. How those little fuzzes could propagate so quickly with the king around was an eternal source of annoyance for the George.

He was quickly startled out of his musings when the king and queen entered the chamber. He didn't have time to act before they started speaking in what appeared to be a private conversation. He tried to remain as still as possible, hoping that they would leave soon so that he could finish his work and get out.

He watched their feet discreetly from his position under the bed. The king moved towards the window, leaning against the sill. The queen sat down in the chair at Arthur's desk. George could tell by the heavy sigh that she was exasperated with her husband.

"Arthur, why won't you tell me what happened?" She implored.

George could just imagine Guinevere ringing her hands in her lap.  As a former servant herself, George had seen her nervous quirks play out for years.

"I don't want you to worry." Arthur said, still gazing out the window...or, at least the hidden servant surmised that was what he was doing, as the king's voice echoed slightly off the glass panes.

"I am your wife, I will always worry. However, I am also the queen and I have a right to know what went on during your journey."

The king relented and began telling his queen the story.  Arthur didn't remember much; just that he had felt a sharp pain shoot across his wound before he fell into unconsciousness.

Arthur then recapped the events as he had been told.  Leon had begun to wake because of Cai's bit of magic, Merlin summoned the Red Dragon and cast his own magic about in the small temple.  Finally, Arthur confessed, "Whatever he did scared Lisanor and her boy nearly to death."

"Wait.  Her boy? I wasn't aware she had a son. Is she widowed? Why didn't she bring him to Camelot?" George could hear the sympathy for the Lady Lisanor in Gwen's voice.

"She's never been married..." Arthur told her.  Then softer and still turned toward the window, he added, "...And she did bring him."

"Oh?" Curiosity marred the queen's voice.

George saw her feet shift under the chair, and knew the wheels in her mind turning.  She was trying to recall if she had seen a boy with them.  

"The squire? Judging by his age he would have been conceived around the time they were in Camelot...or shortly after leaving. I remember Morgana making a comment about her being a bad sort, but I think it was more just jealousy. Oh, Arthur we mustn't judge her for being young and probably seeking solace with all that happened to her father and brothers."

"I'm not judging her, Guinevere."

"What aren't you telling me?" George could hear the creaking of the chair, as Gwen stood up to face her husband.

Arthur remained in his place, staring out the window.

The queen's feet moved over to her husband. "Arthur, Talk to me," She pleaded softly.

Arthur took a breath. "He's my son."

George's eyes shot wide open. He thought back over the time of the feast and the ball. Yes, he knew there was something familiar about the squire.  Now, he was able see the king's features in the boy. It really wasn't that surprising.

"What did you say?" Alright, perhaps it was still surprising to the queen.

"He's my son, alright!" Arthur spat out more forcefully then he meant to.

Gwen felt her heart drop through the floor. Her head was spinning. Her husband had a child and she wasn't the woman who gave it to him. She turned and fled the room in tears...and that's when one particularly nasty dust bunny decided to crawl up George's nose.

Arthur began to run after his wife, when the awkward sound of an barely stifled sneeze stopped him.

Afterward, George stood in the corridor with a trickle of blood oozing out of the new crack on the back of his skull.

He really needed Merlin to return, so they could discuss potential replacements. At this point he didn't care about the status or prestige that came with being the king's personal manservant.

George, like many others before him, just wanted out. He sighed. As much as he wished for release, his own pride would not allow him to simply walk away.  He touched the new wound gently...no matter how painful.

 


	22. Apples and Ham

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twisting of the Little Pig and Apple Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I go twisting some more myths- 'Greetings, Little Pig' from the Black Book of Carmarthen XVIII. It is one of Merlin's own prophecies.

The two men and the boy pulled their cloaks tighter around themselves against the cold rain. Samhain would be upon them within a week, and they wanted to complete their quest in order to return to Camelot by that time.

Their first day out of Camelot, conversation had been stilted.  Merlin wasn't sure how to act around Cai or Loholt after he had broken Lisanor's heart by revealing his power and calling the Red Dragon.  As the trip progressed, it became easier and he soon found himself enjoying the company of the tall black haired knight and his blond nephew.

Loholt was easier to speak with. He held no ill will towards Merlin for what transpired, although he was wary at first.  His youthful exuberance and curiosity soon got the better of him, and he began asking all manner of questions about Camelot, the king, and he even began broaching the subject of Merlin's magic.

Their first stop had been in the township where the queen had originally met with the healer.  But, by the time they had arrived, Alice had disappeared once more.

 

By the fifth day they had entered an easy camaraderie that was beginning to grow into a strong friendship.  It made the journey much more pleasant, though they still had experienced no luck in finding the healer. 

It was already dark when they finally reached the way station bordering Camelot and Southron.

Merlin's previous dealings with the Southrons, when Morgana enlisted their help in taking over Camelot, didn't settle well in his mind, even though a new king was in place.

His plan was to get in, ask  questions and get out as soon as possible. They wore nothing that spoke of their origins from Camelot. They traveled as a scholar with the hired protection of a hedge knight with a serving boy; in hopes of avoiding any unwanted attention.

When they entered the stables, Cai paid for the stalls as Merlin and Loholt moved to begin unsaddling their mounts. The tall man put his hand on Merlin's shoulder to stop him and whispered in his ear. "Remember, you are a learned man, not a servant. Let the boy take care of the horses while we go see to a room."

The dark-haired warlock bit his bottom lip. It still felt odd to let someone else do what had been his own job for so many years, but he knew Cai was right.  On the road, the three of them shared the responsibilities.  However, this close to the border it would raise a flag if he were to act as a servant.  

Leaving Loholt to his duties, Cai and Merlin entered the dimly lit common room and found a table.

The weather kept all but the hardy and stupid inside their homes as the first winter storm bore down on the region. After ordering some ale and a meal which consisted of a slice of ham laid over a bowl of leek porridge, they waited for Loholt to come in. The three ate in silence, listening to the rain outside beating on the shutters and the low din of conversation from the other patrons.

Merlin took a bite of the ham and stopped, feeling a weird sensation come over him. The common room and his companions seemed to fade away for a moment, and in its place, was a grove of apple trees.

_He was getting ready to take a bite of an apple when he heard a voice. Looking down he saw a piglet sitting next to him asking for the fruit._

_He spoke to the pig, "Listen, O little pig! Isn't this land beautiful? When two brothers will fight for land, their claim will be a lasting feud."*_

"Merlin.  Hey." Cai was shaking his arm. The knight snickered, "Falling asleep on us already?"

The daydream was gone as quickly as it had come. Merlin blinked as reality set back in. "That was…interesting. Sorry, I wasn't asleep. I don't know what happened."  He said with a chuckle of his own, looking apologetically towards his companions.

"You looked like you weren't even here for a moment. It actually reminded me of how my mother described seers once." The knight raised an eyebrow, it would not surprise him to know Merlin could have visions.

Loholt smiled with innocent curiosity, jumping into the conversation. "So, what did you see?"

Merlin gave them both a crooked grin filled with embarrassment. "I doubt it was any sort of premonition.  I was in an orchard talking to a pig."

The boy began laughing loudly.  Cai admonished him to keep his voice down, while attempting to keeping his own chuckles contained. "Well, if that was any sort of prophecy, this could be a very interesting journey."

After supper, Merlin made his way to the bar to secure a room and inquire about the healer whom they were searching for. He came back to the table with a smile that spoke of success.

"It seems Alice was in here two days ago." He told them, as he sat down.

"...But?" Cai asked with a raised eyebrow. The trip was taking much longer than anticipated already. Not that he minded, it was good to be out in the world again and fulfilling his dream as a knight of Camelot, but he just wished for a bit more action to put his skills to the test.

"There were some men here from King Roderick's lands, looking for a healer as well. Something about his son being stricken with a terrible illness, but they refused to give any details about it. She went with them to offer her help."

From reports Merlin heard before leaving Camelot, King Roderick and his brother Mordei had been feuding over the Southron land.  The region had been left without a king, after Helios fell to Isolde's blade in the battle for Camelot about five years before. "I guess the question is: do we want to go pay King Roderick a visit?"


	23. A New Friend

They stayed at the inn for two days, waiting for the storm to pass.  With the time it would take to reach King Roderick's castle, Merlin cursed that it meant they were at least four days behind Alice...and the only possible salvation for Gaius.

They left as soon as the worst of the storm broke.  Although, it continued to drizzle as they rode along and they finally made camp before it became too dark.

Loholt was exhausted and began to doze while trying to eat, which gave Merlin and Cai a good laugh. The poor boy had never traveled so much in his life.  They sent him to his bedroll, somewhat hidden under the hollowed roots of a large tree, and out of the worst of the rain. Merlin took care of the dishes, while Cai checked on their horses before they settled in for the night themselves.

Cai poked at the fire, trying to keep it going with the damp wood. If it hadn't been for Merlin's magic, they might not have even had a fire with everything around them being so wet.

The rain still caused the fire to sputter as the drops landed on the coals quicker than the flames could dry the wood.

Before the warlock fell asleep, the two men agreed that it would be unlikely to make it back to Camelot within five days.

Merlin shared his hope that this year's Samhain celebration would be quiet without him there to guard Arthur.  He also didn't know if the near death experience of Arthur and the curse on Leon would be affected by the annual thinning of the veil.

As the warlock and the boy slumbered, Cai found himself wondering if perhaps he might get to see Leon's spirit.  He quickly pushed the thought away, recalling the Red Dragon's words. The worry about his friend plagued his mind.

Now, that she was dead however, there would be no way to fix the situation as she had done before.  

A sudden explosion of pain cascaded through the back of his skull.   He realized far too late that his mind had wandered, and the din of the continuing rain had masked the tell-tale signs of something being amiss.  His own inexperience in traveling through the wilds had left him, Merlin and Loholt vulnerable.

* * *

_So, this is what it meant to be a Knight of Camelot,_ he thought sourly.   _Days on the road in the rain.  A couple of nights on a scratchy straw mattress in a local hostel.  More rain, and now, waking up with a pounding headache in some foreign dungeon._

"Morning!" A much too cheery voice piped up next to him.

Cai groaned and pried his eyes open to see a very goofy grinning Merlin looking at him. "What the hell happened?"

"Ambushed in the middle of the night." The warlock stood up and began walking around the cell, inspecting the walls. "As imprisonment goes, this seems to be one of the...well, I wouldn't say cleaner...but less despicable places I've visited. You should have seen King Lot's dungeons. I don't think I've ever known a nastier place."

"Where's Loholt?" The knight asked, coming back to his senses and remembering the night before.

Merlin sucked on his teeth for a moment. "He should be fine. I managed to cast a spell to conceal him before I was knocked unconscious."

It was a small relief. Thankfully, he had taken the boy out hunting in the forest surrounding his estate and taught him the basics of living off the land. He hoped that Loholt would remember the training. If he was smart, he would have begun making his way back to the hostel where he could send for help.

He cursed himself for dragging the boy along on the trip, as he stood up and stretched. He gave Merlin a quirky glance when the warlock's words finally made sense in his muddled mind. "You speak as if this happens to you often?"

Merlin gave a half-laugh. "Yeah...Well, following Arthur around is a red flag for all sorts of trouble. Since you're awake, I suppose it's time to get us out of here."

The warlock began studying the door of the cell. It was an easy enough lock for him to break through with his magic, and with only a couple of slacking guards down the hall it wouldn't be hard to escape. The only thing that truly worried the warlock, was finding his missing dagger.  He didn't know if it had been taken after he had been knocked unconscious, or if he had dropped it in the woods.   Once he determined it was not in the hands of their captors, getting out and finding the boy would be the next step.

"Do you hear that?" Cai moved to the cell door and listened to the soft noises echoing down the corridor.

"It sounds like battle," Merlin commented.  His eyebrows rose with intrigue.

The sounds of men and clashing steel grew. Soon they noticed the two men at the end of the hall leave their post and run out of sight.

"Maybe we should lay low here, until we know what's happening.  So, we don't get caught in the cross-fire," Cai suggested.

Merlin seemed to think about that for a half a moment before cocking his head to the side, "Naw, where would the fun be in that? Besides I need to find my dagger."

"Can't you just get a new one?" Cai asked hesitantly. He had seen the blade and it was very unique, but he wasn't sure it was something to risk their lives for, figuring it was a gift from someone welcoming him as a noble or other such thing.

"It was my grandfather's.  So, nope." He didn't add that it was a blessed magical blade. Nor that it still had the blood of the Red Dragon on it. "Don't worry, if it comes to a choice between getting out of here alive and finding Loholt, or going after the dagger… well I can always come back later to find it."

Cai nodded his understanding and thanks for the reasoning that Merlin seemed to have. Outside of Camelot and away from the stress of taking care of Arthur, the warlock actually appeared half-sane. "Alright, we'll try to get it then."

* * *

 

Loholt pulled his cloak tighter as he huddled under the tree roots. He had awaked to the sounds of bandits invading their camp. Quickly trying to grab his sword, he found himself pushed back under the tree by an unseen force.  Words whispered into his mind, ' _Stay hidden'_. He could tell it was Merlin's voice and did as he was instructed while the unknown men ravaged the campsite. Cai and Merlin appeared unconscious and at only thirteen years old, the boy was too scared of the unknown situation to think about trying to play the hero.

Now, he sat in the remains of the camp -- alone and cold. Most of the supplies and the horses were taken. He'd overheard the bandits discussing that there were three horses and saddles. They investigated the camp further, but then left soon after not having found signs of a third rider. Loholt berated himself for not helping.  His legs were beginning to cramp from being tucked up in the hole for so long and he knew he needed to move and do something.

His first thought was to head to the inn they stayed at before, but to him that seemed almost more cowardly than not having done anything in the first place. After putting together what little remained of the supplies he stood in contemplation. Thankfully, the rain had stopped shortly after the camp was destroyed and Loholt soon found the tracks left by the ruffians. In a moment of courage and teenage stupidity, he decided to follow them instead of logic.

* * *

His clothes were soaked with mud, as he slipped again. He could just imagine the cursing his uncle Bedivere would be doing in this situation and his mother's face would be a furious red as she would admonish her brother for the use of language. Loholt knew his days would be at an end if she ever caught him saying such things. So he was thankful that she wasn't anywhere within leagues of him now.

Finally, he managed to make it to a break in the trees.  Tucked down in a ravine was the entrance to a dilapidated fort that was crawling with the bandits.

The boy fingered his short sword, trying to come up with a plan. From all around the hold shouts of men suddenly rang out and he saw what appeared to be knights and other seasoned warriors bearing down on the group of thugs. Loholt crouched down, trying to hide while continuing to watch the battle unfold below him. The newcomers were well trained and began making short work of the bandits. Each time another man fell, the boy found himself flinching, but unable to look away from the gruesome scene below him. Until out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the defenders break away from the group and run down a hidden path.  It was one of the few he'd gotten a good look at the night before. Clenching his teeth and gripping his sword, Loholt followed after him. He saw it as his only chance to find out what happened to his uncle and Lord Emrys.

The trees were thick and the rocks were slippery. He let out a sound of surprised shock when he came through some bushes and stumbled into the man, knocking him down. The man was dirty and his clothes were more rags then anything. Loholt felt bile form in the back of his throat as he noticed the blood pouring from out of the man's side. Then he saw something that made him angry tucked in the belt of the ruffian.

"I'm gonna kill you boy!" The thug bit out through gritted teeth as he stood up. Instinct and training from his uncles kicked in and Loholt brought up his sword when the man lunged at him.

He would never forget the look of utter confusion in the man's eyes nor the sound of his sword as it entered the lower abdomen as the bandit fell on him, pinning the teenager to the ground. Face to face, Loholt began to panic as the confusion faded into a blank stare right before him. He could feel the warm blood seeping out of the body onto him.

Next thing he knew, he was tripping and fell face first into a small stream. His mind was blocking the moments where he must have worked his way out from under the larger man and began running. Loholt pushed himself up and vigorously began trying to use the water to wash the blood off of his hands. Next to him was his sword and Lord Emyrs's dagger that he must have taken from the bandit, though he could not recall doing so. His hands were shaking and he felt extremely cold as he used the silt in the stream bed in an attempt to scrub his skin. After a few moments of scouring he sat back on his heels and just cried until exhaustion overcame him.

It could have been minutes or even hours later an odd sound finally jolted Loholt back to reality. He felt something nuzzling against his cheek and hot stinking animal breath sniffling around his eyes. He bolted upright, starting the animal to back away from him. They stared at each other in fear and curiosity, before Loholt began to laugh.

In front of him was a pig. Not the wild boars normally found in these forests, but something that would be on a farm. It looked at him with intelligent eyes, let out a squeal then turned and began walking away.

The boy stood for a minute watching after the pig. "This has got to be the weirdest dream or nightmare ever," he said out loud, surprised to hear his own voice.

The swine stopped and turned back to him making a grunting noise as if encouraging the boy to follow. "What the hell have I got to lose." He shrugged, briefly thinking about Lord Emyrs's vision. "I'm soaking wet, cold, lost in a forest. My mum is going to kill me after she gets done with my uncle, I'm sure. And now I've got a pig trying to get me to go with him." He bit his lip, his mind briefly thinking that he also killed a man today, but he quickly shut down that piece of memory as he sheathed his sword, tucked the dagger in his belt and began to follow the pig.

 


	24. Searching for a Healer

They were taken out of the cell at sword point. Cai muttered to his companion, "Why don't you just use your magic and get us out of here?" The knight was growing impatient with Merlin's way of doing things. The men guiding them were part of King Roderick's army as most of the bandits were either dead or had been captured.

"Oh, yeah.  That would go over well, I'm sure. What if their king has the same abhorrence to it as Uther did? Then we could find ourselves on the run, burned at the stake, beheaded, all of the above, or worse. Especially, since it appears they might be taking us exactly where we need to go. Look, we have no idea where your nephew is.  From what I overheard he wasn't captured, so we can be thankful for that. However, we do know that Alice went willingly with King Roderick's men. Our best chance is to go with them and decide on a plan from there. Maybe we can enlist the king's help to find Loholt, since we were on a road in his lands. And if he isn't a fan of sorcery, or Arthur, then Loholt is better off with this king not knowing about him."

Cai was struck again by how loyal Merlin was to Arthur. Although the warlock showed concern for Loholt, he was set more on the king's mission than finding the wayward teenager. Cai knew Arthur from years before and it was obvious he wasn't the same reckless bully he had been. During the short times he was able to speak with the new King of Camelot, he could tell that the blond man had grown up in many ways and the loyalty he seemed to inspire was something to behold. From the lowest serfs in the kingdom to many of the ancient noble lines all spoke so highly of the king, and it appeared to Cai that the man behind it all was standing right next to him.

Their conversation was cut off by a knight who appeared to be the commander. "These were the two the cell?" He asked the armored man next to them.

The man nodded, "Yes, sir. We think the thugs were hired by Mordei to disrupt any trade along the King's road and managed to capture these men last night, along with three horses."

"Three?" The commander was an older man with gray, mutton chop side burns and a large scar across his face. He'd obviously seen his share of battles. The subordinate leaned in and whispered to his elder. Sharp gray eyes filled with cleverness evaluated the two men silently for a moment. "So, where is your third rider?" He asked, almost daring them to lie.

Cai stiffened and tried to think of something to say, but Merlin beat him to it.

"There are only the two of us. My father is in desperate need of a healer," Merlin lied. Gaius was like a father to him so it was close enough to the truth. "We heard the only one with skill enough came to Southron a few days ago. I brought the extra horse for her."

"...And the King of Camelot just let a wandering hedge knight and a minor noble travel with three horses recently shod by his royal blacksmith?" He raised a white bushy eyebrow gazing at Merlin suspiciously.

Merlin managed to keep a straight face. Silently cursing while and at the same time admiring the thoroughness and discipline this group seemed to have. He would have to mention the horseshoes to Arthur when they returned. Merlin sighed and gave a slight smile. "Alright, my mentor is the court physician of Camelot and he recently injured himself badly.  We are looking for a woman who is said to be the best healer around.  Her name is Alice."

The old man narrowed his eyes. "So, you're the one we've heard about."

"Excuse me?" Merlin felt a bit lost at the sudden recognition.

"We heard that the ward of the physician recently became the heir to Camelot. You're king is daft to send you out without a proper escort, you know that right?" He guffawed loudly.

Cai was quick to respond to the bullying old man. "...And if we had come into King Roderick's land with more of a force and no treaty between him and Camelot, it could have been seen as a threat."

The commander gave him an appraising look. "That is a good point. Well, you'll be happy to know the healer you seek is our guest.  We plan on taking you to meet her and ourking."

* * *

 

The old house felt so cold, but at this moment it was warmer than the castle. Flowers on the table and hung around the one room home had long since faded and dried, covered with cobwebs and dust after years of neglect. Lace doilies were chewed away by rodents and the curtains were tattered and moth eaten.

Yet, the memories remained. She was the last member of her family still alive, and by the cruel joke fate seemed to be playing on her, she simply would be the last. The ratty old blanket covering the bed used to be her mother's favorite.

Gwen felt a pang of guilt as she glanced around the room.  Her eyes filled with tears. She could recall her younger days, running in and out of the house chasing her brother.  Her mother coming home after working late into the evening as a maid in Sir Leon's family's house.  Her father always smiling and bringing a flower home after he finished an order at the forge. Those carefree days seemed so distant.

 _Arthur has a son._ The realization kept repeating in her mind. What was she thinking?  She was a servant married to a king? It had never been easy for her.

First, watching him from afar.  He was so handsome and brave.  Even with his better-than-everyone attitude, he was still the most dashing man in the entire kingdom. When he tried to stand up for her father alongside Morgana that was when Guinevere could truly say she began to fall in love with him. Then, he noticed her and things became more complex as they tried to hide their affair from the king. She watched every day as he grew from the brutish, spoiled boy into an amazing man.

After they took back Camelot, things began to change for them both. Their love was strong, and after Uther died it seemed nothing could keep them apart. She consoled him and grieved with him; sharing in the pain of being orphaned. Nothing could stop them.  Until the days before her wedding when Lancelot rose from the dead when a spell was cast. Of all the things Morgana had done in her wicked days, that was the one thing Gwen wasn't sure she could ever forgive her for. In a small way, the queen was grateful for when the kingdom was overthrown once again, as it brought her back into her beloved Arthur's arms.

He rewrote the laws for her, so they could marry. He abolished the principles of his father in allowing magic back into the lands. Now with the knowledge that he had a son, a small part of her feared that he would find a way to name this bastard boy as his heir.

She held no malice towards the young squire.  The circumstances of his birth were not his doing, but what if she could never give the king a true born heir?

The shame of knowing that it was she alone who carried the burden of being unable to conceive, weighed heavily on her soul.

A knocking at the door startled her and she jumped. Gwen attempted to wipe her eyes with a handkerchief, worried that it might be one of the palace guards searching for her, or worse - her husband. The knocking came again and she called out for the person to enter, even though part of her wanted to remain hidden.  She knew as the queen she would be unable to do so. She refused to look at the door as the person entered.

"Majesty?" A female voice asked hesitantly. When Gwen didn't respond the woman came closer.  Pulling out one of the old wooden chairs, she sat down near the queen.

Guinevere finally chanced a look out of the corner of her eye to notice it was Lady Clarissant. "Did Arthur send you?"

Clarissant shook her head. "No, My Lady. Aithusa saw you leave the castle and came to find me. She said you seemed sad.  I asked around about where you might have gone. The girl is looking for you, too."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "She is a kind child."

"Is there anything I can assist you with, My Lady?" The fair skinned, brunette asked hesitantly.

"Did you know the king has a son with another woman?" Gwen asked in clipped tones. Clarissant shook her head. "Sir Cai's squire. I have been married to him for years and I haven't been blessed with a child. What if the court finds out? They have accepted me, but I know many still do not approve of my station. What is going to happen when they realize this?" The queen wasn't sure why she was spilling her feelings to this woman who was still virtually a stranger to her.

Clarissant shrugged, "I don't know, My Lady. But, I have seen you and the king together.  He would not set you aside for all the courtiers and nobles in the kingdom, even if …" She left the statement hanging.

"Hmph.  Even if I never have a child?" Gwen spat out. "Is that what you were going to say?"

She licked her lips. "Please don't misunderstand me. I would have given anything to have my late husband look upon me once the way the king does every time he sees you."

That statement appeared to hit a chord with Gwen. "How long were you married?" She asked, attempting to sidetrack her current thinking.

Clarissant bit her bottom lip and thought about it. "Almost thirteen years. I married very young for the convenience of having a roof over my head. I kept hoping love would come, but it never did."

"You never had any children?" 

The woman's brown eyes shifted downward and she seemed to become extremely uncomfortable. After a few moments she took a deep breath. "None that lived long enough to be born."

Gwen gasped, "I'm sorry, I had no idea."

Clarissant brushed the hair out of her face and gave the queen a sad smile. "In my situation, I think it was for the best. After perhaps the fourth time I actually found a midwife who started making me a tonic to keep it from happening again."

"Oh," Gwen couldn't imagine the heartache the other woman must have felt. A part of her felt angry that any woman would choose to prevent a child, but Clarissant's situation was much different than her own.

"Have you spoken to the physician, or a midwife perhaps? They might have ways of helping to strengthen your body?"

"No. I thought about asking Gaius, but it would be rather uncomfortable to speak to him of this subject.  What if the midwife said something to the wrong person and my situation was revealed? What would be the point?"

"Well, at least it would be something to consider. Before you didn't know what the problem was. Now you know, and although it may not seem like it, half the problem is solved. If you like, I can find a midwife and get something for you discretely?"

Gwen gave her a measured look. The other woman did have a point. She would no longer wonder whether it was her or Arthur that caused her long standing infertility. Perhaps, she should take some relief in that alone. Finally she nodded at Clarissant. "That would be very kind of you."


	25. The Dragon King

The fur lined boots did little to keep her feet warm as she stood in the courtyard. Pulling the cowl of her cloak tighter around her face against the wind, and also to hide the glare she shot at the incoming party of riders. Two days ago she received word that the self-proclaimed 'Dragon of the Isle,' King of Anglesey and most of the region north of Snowdonia was going to be paying a visit. Why anyone would ride out for a visit in this weather was beyond Morgana's understanding. However, her mother aptly pointed out that the few inches of wet snow this close to the mountains was rather normal.

After the few months she spent in Ismere, Morgana thought she would be used to it, but the snow there was different. Being more inland than Snowdonia it had a drier and firmer quality. Here they were still close enough to the sea that the snow was wet and melted easily into a slushy mud ridden mess. As the riders began to dismount they looked around expectantly. The raven-haired regent of Dinas Emrys bit back the snide remark on her lips and put on her best apologetic smile as she walked forward to meet the king.

"Welcome Your Majesty, you'll have to forgive the lack of staff as we are but a humble hill fort and not a great castle as you must be accustomed to."

Blond curling hair stuck out of a long braid under a fur cap as the man shook the snow out his messily braided beard decorated with beads shells and leather ties. "Oh that's alright, and at least I now have a measure of your forces in case I ever decide to claim this as my own." He threatened with narrow sky blue colored eyes half-hidden under frost encrusted bushy eyebrows.

Morgana swallowed down a retort and thinking that unless he had a few sorcerers in his employment, he would find a fight on his hands if he ever dared try.

She was startled when he let out with an uproarious laugh, obviously seeing her thoughts played out. "It's a small matter, lass, not a thing to worry that pretty little head of yours over. I'm certain we can come to some sort of compromise, being as you are so close to my own lands," He smiled lecherously up at her. Although Morgana wasn't tall in the boots, she still stood a few inches over the man.

Putting a guarded smile back in place, she waved her arm to invite him into the keep. "Please enter and we shall share some mead while we speak of this compromise."

He motioned to his men to take care of their own horses and began to follow her. "So, where is this new Earl? I've come to discuss my terms with him.  No offense, lassie."

"None taken," she replied diplomatically, while her thoughts finished the sentence with 'my ass'.

* * *

 

Merlin, the Earl of Snowdonia, rode with his companion through the gates of a castle far to the south.  

The cobblestones gleamed from the recent rains as they dismounted and were brought into the throne room. Flanked by nobles and knights the man sitting on the throne was lavishly dressed and sporting his wealth with a flourish. His salt and pepper hair curled around the backs of his ears, the crown on his head barely covered the receding hairline above his forehead. If he was ever a warrior, it certainly didn't show in with his current waistline.

"My Liege." The mutton chopped commander bowed. "These men were found captive among your brother's hired thugs. This is the new noble from Camelot and his guard."

"Thank you, Lord Simon." The king pushed his way up out of the throne and walked casually down the dais steps.  His hands clasped behind his back in an arrogant manner as he evaluated the two men. "Welcome to Southron, Lord...?"

"Emyrs, Your Majesty." Merlin responded with a bow. He resisted the urge to look at his feet out of trained respect towards a noble. "Thank you for allowing us to come. I'm sorry we didn't send word, but it wasn't until a few days ago that we even knew we would be entering your lands."

"Really?" The king circled them. "...And why is that pray-tell?"

"We were trying to find a healer known as Alice."

"Ah, I see. Well, she is here." He made his way back to the throne. "Dine with me tonight." He ordered before waving his hand in dismissal.

"Thank you, Sire, but I would like to at least speak with her first, if I may."

The king polished his fingernails on his sleeve, appearing bored. "Why?"

Merlin took a breath, he loathed nobles like this king who threw around their power like a spoiled child. "I need to ask her a question concerning my mentor's health. I fear if I wait until after we eat, I might forget the details."

Sighing heavily, the king rolled his eyes. "Very well. But just you.  Your guard will have to stay here."

Cai and Merlin glanced at each other. Something was extremely fishy about the way King Roderick spoke. A brief nod to each other in agreement that they would be on their guard in this situation. "Thank you, Sire."

Merlin followed Lord Simon through the halls. It didn't come as a surprise to find himself being led down into the dungeons. "Keep to the middle of the hall, these louts down here can get a bit vicious." Simon warned as they passed through the first gate.

The warlock was a bit shocked by the volume of yelling and cursing as he followed the commander. The dungeons were packed full of ill-seeming characters. "Why are there so many prisoners?"

Simon chuckled.  The shadows from the torch sconces playing off his features and highlighting the scar across his face. "It's a time of war between the king and his brother."

"I see.  So, King Roderick is compassionate in that way."

The commander let out with a hearty laugh, "Compassion has nothing to do with it.  It's good politics. If enemy forces surrender, you keep them locked up, or put them to work. Many of these louts will get sent to the mines as we need them, once their spirits are broken a bit.  Or, shipped off and sold to France. They don't care where they go, so long as they get to keep their heads. Some, once the war is over, will be given a chance to swear allegiance.  If they do they'll be put to work in the fields, unless they can prove themselves with a blade. Ah, here we go." He pulled a set of keys off his belt and unlocked the door to a cell near the back end of a corridor.

Merlin peered into the darkened cell. He saw a figure sleeping on a straw mat near the far corner.

"Wake up, you have a visitor," Simon bellowed into the cell, his voice echoed off the bare stone walls. He moved back to allow Merlin to enter.

The figure on the mat shifted and pushed herself up to see what the commotion was about. Alice looked at Merlin.  There was no acknowledgment that she knew him in her face.

The warlock entered cautiously, half expecting his escort to slam the door shut behind him. Instead, Simon just nodded and moved down the hall to speak with one of the guards. "Hello Alice."

"Hello, are you someone else the king has decided to send to try and convince me I have the skills he needs?"

"No, actually." Merlin chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair. He moved closer to her and spoke softly. He was thankful to see she didn't seem to have been mistreated. "I'm here to try and get you out of this place."

"Who are you?" She asked distrustfully.

"You might remember me from Camelot, I'm Gaius's ward."  He waited and watched as recognition finally dawned on her.

She gasped and smiled, "Merlin? Why, you have become a man since I last saw you!" Her eyes narrowed as she recalled that he was the one who was responsible for her near execution in Camelot. "Come to hunt me down for your king? Or did the queen send you when I refused to go anywhere near that place?"

"I came to ask for your help."

The old healer rolled her eyes. "That's what the queen said, but she wouldn't elaborate on why."

Merlin took a breath.  "Gaius fell.  He injured his hip badly and I don't possess the skills to help him."

Her eyebrows shot up in sudden concern for her lost love. "How badly?"

"Very. If he is ever able to walk again, that would be a miracle."  He chewed his lip figuring out the best way to word Arthur's request. "Uther died a few years back, and Arthur is willing to speak with you about the events that took place, especially if you are able to help Gaius at all. He gave his word that he would consider pardoning you because of the manticore.  If he chooses not to, then you would simply be banished...not sentenced to death."

Alice gave him a tight-lipped smile. "That's all very well and good, but you will have to forgive me if I don't really trust the word of a Pendragon, or  _you_."

"Well, that's understandable. I'm sorry for turning you in last time we met. Gaius didn't want to believe…" He turned away for a moment and closed his eyes. He looked back at her, his eyes set with resolve. "I had to do what I could to protect Camelot. Arthur wasn't ready to be king yet."

They stared at each other for a few moments. Alice was trying to decide if she should believe this boy who betrayed her years before.  "I would go to help Gaius, even if it meant my death sentence, but unfortunately I'm a bit detained for the time being."

"About that...I thought you were brought here to heal the king's son?"

She chuckled, "Alas, what plagues the boy is not a sickness and the ability to cure him is beyond even my magic. The King thought a few days in the dungeon would change my mind."

Alice was about to say more when they were interrupted by Lord Simon coming back to the cell door. "Time's up, Lord Emyrs.  The king will be expecting you to look presentable at his dinner table."

Merlin nodded his acknowledgement and stood up. "I'll see what I can do about getting you out of here," he promised and followed Simon out of the dungeon.


	26. Porkly Princes

Twilight colors outlined the tree tops. The few remaining rain clouds had drifted away earlier in the morning, leaving the sky clear. As darkness started falling, so did the temperature.

Loholt's clothing was soaked through.  It had become tattered and filthy from his trek through the woods. Many times he thought he'd lost sight of the pig he was following.   He would then catch a glimpse of it through the trees, or it would squeal and oink, encouraging him to catch up. 

Then, Loholt heard a sound that truly frightened him.  A mournful, echoing tone from the baying of a hound dog who had caught the scent of prey.

His uncle Bedievere kept dogs that he used for tracking down wild boar and game.  Loholt knew the sound well. So did his little pig friend it seemed, as it came running and grunting back towards him. Loholt looked around, his mind finally kicking in with the survival training Cai had instilled. The teenager thought briefly about climbing a tree, but soon realized the pig wouldn't be able to.  Even though it wasn't full grown, it was still too heavy for him to carry and climb at the same time.

He recalled a small river they had passed not long before. "Come on, pig, this way."

He set off back towards the water. Luck was on his side when he made it ahead of the dogs and found a way to cross. Loholt urged the pig to stay close to him as he made his way down stream in the middle for a ways. His boots were soaked through and by the time he felt it was safe to get out of the water, he could barely feel his toes. Stumbling around in the darkness, he managed to find a small cave that was just deep enough to hold them both comfortably.

The boy was shivering as they settled in. With trembling fingers he attempted to unlace his boots. He knew he had to get out of the cold wet footwear or his toes would freeze. The pig was shivering as it rolled in the dry dirt on the floor of the cave, trying to rid itself of the water that clung to its skin. Finally seeing how his digits couldn't get any purchase on the laces, Loholt took out the dagger.  He'd stolen it back from the bandit who had obviously taken it from Lord Emrys, and now he used it to cut as close as he could to the knot that held the soaked leather to his feet.

His hand began to cramp around the pale hilt of the blade, and he found it hard to release it. "Well, pig, it looks like we lost the hounds, but if I can't get something to warm us the hounds may be the least of our worries," he stated fearfully. A sliver of moonlight fell through the forest and made its way into the cave, lighting on the blade in his hand. Loholt startled as he began to feel warmth resonate through the dagger. He could almost sense the magic trying to flow out of the enchanted weapon. He smiled, realizing that it would make sense for one of power like Lord Emyrs to be carrying a charmed item.

Since his family still prayed to the old gods, he knew a few words that were said to be used for magic, although he had never tried to use them as such before. "Well, it can't hurt to try, eh pig? My uncle has magic, maybe I do too." Loholt gripped the dagger tighter and spoke a word, " _hléownes."_

Nothing happened.

He frantically began saying the word for warmth over and over again, with no result. Loholt could feel the tears flowing down his face as he desperately attempted to bring back the initial feeling of heat that the dagger had given off. Frustrated he threw the blade away from him and began sobbing into his arms.

The little pig walked over to the fallen dagger and picked it up in its mouth bringing it back to the boy. It nuzzled its snout under one of Loholt's arms. The blond looked up and tried to push the pig away, but it kept persisting with the dagger.

"Fine, I'll try one more time." He steadied his breathing, as much as he could through the hypothermia that was setting in. Loholt put both hands on the hilt and held it out to the stream of pale moonlight. " _Hléownes_."

He instantly felt the heat return to the dagger. It glowed warmly, though it did not burn him and he almost squealed in delight. He caught himself before the sound could escape. Although it was dark outside, and it was doubtful the hunters or their hounds would find them for the moment, he knew he still had to be careful.

After a while he finally felt his body return to a normal temperature and fell asleep comfortable, but exhausted next to his new friend.

* * *

"Well?" Cai asked, pouncing on Merlin as soon as the door of their guest quarters had closed.

The warlock sighed, "She's here and willing to go with us to help Gaius, but as I suspected...she's in the dungeon. Whatever happened to King Roderick's son isn't something that can be healed, she said. Did you find out anything?"

Cai shook his head, "Not much, I'm afraid. What little I managed to overhear, it appears that Roderick and his brother were trying to come to a compromise and had an outside mediator. It seems the son got a bit mouthy, pissed off the mediator who then cursed him before disappearing. Roderick blames his brother for calling in this man.  The negotiations broke down and they went back to warring each other."

"What kind of curse?" Merlin asked as he cleaned himself up.

The knight shrugged, "I have no idea. But on the plus side, it looks as if this king has no problem with magic as long as it suits his needs."

Merlin grumbled low in his throat. "Alright, well, guess we'll have to find out more at this dinner."

* * *

 

Later that evening the two men made their way back into the guest room. The door had barely latched behind them when Merlin turned to look at his companion, biting his lips in a sad attempt to maintain control.

Cai was the first to lose it and let out with hysterical laughter.  Soon Merlin was sitting on the bed, unable to stand from laughing to hard himself.

The dinner had started out as a typical affair for a king entertaining noble guests. He spoke of the greatness of the kingdom and did his best to sway the newcomers into seeing him instead of his brother as the true ruler. The table was laid out with all sorts of food; far too much in both Merlin and Cai's opinions. Arthur understood through Gwen and Merlin how to make the table seem lavish, but not wasteful as his father and many other rulers were wont to do… King Roderick went completely overboard.

One thing stuck out to Merlin, however. As they had entered the city earlier in the day, he had noticed a quite a few farms with hogs, which by itself wasn't unusual. Pigs were among the easiest to keep and maintain, especially when feeding troops of men. They didn't require the grazing that cattle needed, or the yearly sheering of sheep, nor did they involve the constant watching that goats needed. Now thinking back on it, he recalled passing a butcher's shop and could not remember seeing a single swine carcass hanging.

Mary, the head cook in Camelot, always made sure when a feast was in order to have at least one full pig garnished with greens and, especially at this time of year, the largest apple she could find to fill its mouth. On their recent journey through Mercia, even Bayard's table held a few large ham hocks. Merlin, in his usual lack of tactful questioning, made a passing mention of his observation.

The entire hall went deathly quiet.

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats… Merlin began to wonder what he said wrong.

Nobles of Southron were reluctant to look anywhere near the head of the table where King Roderick sat.  The king's eyes bore holes into the heir of Camelot. Even the guards seemed to shift nervously.

"Is something amiss, Sire?" Cai finally ventured to ask of the king. Truthfully, he was just as confused as Merlin appeared to be by the reaction.

King Roderick finally broke his gaze away from the warlock and downed the rest of the wine in his goblet. "My brother and I were recently engaged in negotiations towards peace. Mordei suggested we bring in a third party to mediate, and I, in my magnanimous nature, allowed it. Little did I realize the man he brought in, Afallach,* was a druid sorcerer whom was looking for a husband for his daughter. Whichever one of us he choose to side with he would give his daughter to...either to my annoying brother or to me for my son."

Merlin and Cai glanced at each other, curious as to where this story was going. "So, which of you did he choose?" Merlin questioned.

"Neither." The king held out his cup and a servant was quick to refill it. "I was the picture perfect host, and the points my son was bringing up about the farmlands were completely valid. Mordei began acting like a spoiled child and this Afallach did not appreciate my hospitality. My son became stricken by an unusual malady around the time both of them chose to leave -- which I'm certain my brother paid him to do. So, I brought in the healer, Alice. She was being difficult about curing my son and then one of Mordei's men kidnapped him."

The dark-haired warlock bit the inside of his lip.  He somehow doubted that Roderick was as benevolent as he claimed to be, nor did he have any clue what this had to do with his initial observation. However, he decided to follow the king's current line of conversation. "If we were to help you find your son, would you release Alice to us?"

Roderick raised a dark-brown, well sculpted eyebrow, "Perhaps, but you must understand one thing."

"What would that be, Sire?"

"My son is a pig."

Merlin was taken aback by the sentiment, "I'm sorry you feel that way about your own child, but that doesn't tell us much on how we might be helpful in finding him, or my question about Alice."

Roderick suddenly laughed, though there was little humor in the sound. "No, you misunderstand. Afallach turned my son into a pig!" He brought his fist down on the table hard enough to shake it, causing some of the food to go rolling off. It appeared as if he'd completely forgotten there were other people in the room. Sitting back, the king casually brushed his velvet jacket, gaining control of his emotions. "We brought in the healer woman to help, since we can't seem to find the sorcerer. The trickster disappeared in a whirlwind just after casting the transformation and then one of my brother's men snuck in and took my son. Tracking him is how my men came upon the hideout that you were being kept. Unfortunately, Lord Simon and the others have been unable to locate any of them."

Years of patience and secrecy paid off in spades as Merlin kept his features schooled in seriousness. "If Sir Cai and I can locate him, would you consider my request?"

"Only if she is able to change him back to the boy he is supposed to be."

Merlin wanted to pound his head on the table.  He could see this entire round of conversation spiraling on for the rest of the night. "Alice is a healer. A magical curse that changes someone into an animal can be a bit… different to reverse."

Roderick leaned forward eagerly. "Any you know this how?"

Now he wanted to bang his head on the table for a different reason. He just had to open his mouth about it, he silently cursed at himself. Merlin tried to think of something. "Oh, you know, it's just what I heard. Studying with the physician in Camelot for years, I think I came across it in a book or something at some point or another..." _Or in an iron bound chest containing a goblin_ , he thought sarcastically while trying to maintain a look of innocence.

Clicking his tongue, the king studied him for a moment. "I see. Well, then, I suppose you shall need to find someone who can help the situation, as you seem to have the most knowledge about it."

"May I ask what became of the sorcerer who cast the spell?" The warlock asked hesitantly. In Camelot, even now under Arthur's rule a man like Afallach would be hunted down and killed for even daring to summon this type of magic against a noble. The laws against magic may have been modified, but much of the prejudice still remained and this would have been seen as an act of aggression against its people.

Roderick seemed to consider the question, when he finally answered it shocked Merlin, "If you happen to find him, tell him I will double whatever my brother paid him to give me my son back in his original form and I'll triple it if he can deliver the same courtesy upon Mordei."

After that, the king left the table in a dark mood. The rest of the nobility seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and the party soon dispersed.

Now back in the room, the two men could barely contain themselves. "The prince is a pig," Cai gasped out. "I have to say I didn't see that one coming!"

Finally, gaining some measure of control Merlin responded, "I should have. But now comes the question of finding this… porkly prince."

"Well, at least he's not planning on to punish the sorcerer, I doubt if I would be so lenient."

"I have to admit, I might be out for revenge myself if it was my child."

Cai sucked in a breath through his teeth. "That might be something to see! Someone trying to turn your dragon girl into a pig. I doubt there would be anything left of the man to take revenge on."

The image of such a scenario played through Merlin's mind and he found himself almost collapsing back onto one of the beds in the shared chamber laughing again.

The knight moved over to the other bed and began taking off his boots. "Do you think you can change the boy back once we find him?"

Merlin shrugged, "Well, I've had experience with that sort of magic, so it shouldn't be too difficult." He tried to contain a snicker of amusement remembering Arthur's ears and braying.

Curious Cai gave Merlin a look, imploring him to explain.

"There was a goblin loose in the castle years back. I secretly had to undo most of the magic, including well… Let's just say the goblin thought Arthur was a real ass. It wasn't a full transformation mind you.  Although, I have had experience changing someone back from that as well." He thought briefly about when Gwen was changed into a fawn.  "Next time we're in Camelot – you should ask the Queen about her husband's ears."

"Why do I get the feeling I would be thrown into the stocks for that?" Cai narrowed green eyes at his companion.

Merlin shrugged, "It is a possibility, but completely worth it to see the look on Arthur's face."

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I made a decision today to just go ahead and post the rest of this story here without editing it. So... lots of runons and general first draft mistakes, but by finishing the posting here no one will need to go deal with ffnet to read the rest. I will be doing the same with the next two parts of the series so that I can upload the chapters of the final book in both places at the same time.
> 
> If you see anything that is a serious error, let me know. Otherwise, enjoy! Feedback is always welcome!

The boorish man appeared to make himself quite at home in the common room of the fort, much to Morgana's chagrin.

Dinas Emyrs had been well stocked for the winter for the few people staying there, but they had not planned on hosting a visiting delegation.

 

After consulting privately with her mother and a local family of five, the youngest of which was a boy of almost nine years, that all resided in the keep, the raven-haired woman knew that hosting a feast, even a small one, would put strain on their resources for the rest of the winter. If King Maelgwn Hir, who Morgana found out from her mother meant Maelgwn the Tall – she almost laughed out loud at that description of the man shorter than her- thought to stay any longer than a day or two, the end of winter would be very difficult with a shortage of food supplies.

The region was still recovering from the strain of battle and influx of troops from the past summer. Morgana knew she would have to buy supplies from the allied kingdoms in order to survive.  Thankfully the copper mine would help in that, but it would still be difficult to have any ships come in or trade caravans pass on the roads. She sighed heavily before pushing open the door from the small kitchen and placing her most diplomatic smile back on before reentering the room where her visitor sat.

"Forgive the delay, My Lord, dinner will begin… shortly," she said cordially, putting emphasis on the last word.

"Good, I'm starving!" Maelgwn seemed not to notice the implied insult. Aside from his lack of height, he had the distinct features of the Norman's that were continuously invading the coastal towns on the northern side of the region. He had a teasing smile and everything appeared to be of some amusement to the man, which irked Morgana more than anything else. In one moment the man would gain the dark look of a warrior going into battle and lay down a threat, in the next he was laughing as if it was all a joke. "So where is the lord of this pile of rubble, eh?"

"I'm sorry, he's away for the season, attending to King Arthur in Camelot. I have been given the authority to negotiate on his behalf in all matters until he returns in the spring."

"Oh, is that so?" His blue eyes narrowed underneath the bushy blond eyebrows. "Are you his wife then?"

Morgana sipped at the cup of mead she was sharing with the king, wishing she could find a way around answering the man. She thought about lying and saying that she was, however if this king ever found out, it could be a cause for strife. And if Merlin ever found out she said such a thing- well after the threats that were made last time they parted, she would never hear the end of it. Deciding, finally, that the truth would be the best in this situation, she responded, "No, I am not married."

"Not married, eh?" The gleam in Maelgwn's eye made Morgana instantly wish she had lied. He leaned forward, his foul breath assaulting her nose, and placed his hand on her arm possessively. "Perhaps that can be remedied. You're almost old enough to be a spinster; I'd hate to see such a pretty thing as yerself go to waste in a ruined hill fort without a husband to take care of you as the Good Lord would suggest you do. Or are ye planning to join a nunnery in His service? T'would be a pity for such a darling as yerself."

She bit her tongue. Morgana of course had some knowledge of the single god and these nunneries that Maelgwn mentioned. When she was younger, she could recall Uther entertaining the leftover Romans and their God. Although impressed by their prejudice against magic, the late king of Camelot was not a fan of giving up control, however remote it might be to any power higher than himself. He had allowed a monastery for a time to be built within the city walls and took advantage of the tolling bells to help keep time but the inhabitants were weary as even they had not been above suspicion of witchcraft to the paranoid monarch. She wondered briefly if Arthur ever planned to allow them more of a foothold in Camelot than his father had.

Although no longer a high priestess of the Triple Goddess, Morgana still found herself following many of the ways of the Old Religion as her mother began to teach her the more beautiful and peaceful aspects of it. She remembered stories her father, Gorlois, told of a time when the Romans occupied most of the land and warred with the native people. It was the beginning of the decline in followers of the Old Religion, when the invaders departed they had left their mark on the land and its people still remained. It seemed as if this Maelgwn was among those that, while seeming to be of Norse origins, held tightly to the Roman beliefs.

"I have no plans of doing either such thing, My Lord," She tried to keep the contempt out of her voice that he dared suggest such options as if they were the only ways open to her.

"Hmph, is that so?" He raised the cup to her with a challenging smirk, "Well then, perhaps I shall have to try and persuade you to change your mind."

Maelwch stood suddenly after downing the rest of the mead, "I appreciate your hospitality lass, but unfortunately my men and I had best be off for now. We'll be staying the eve in Bedkelerd if you decide you would like some company. Then in the morn off to check on this new port town, I've been hearin' about. You'd be welcome to join us, if you like. I certainly wouldn't mind the companionship, plus it might be helping to make a good impression for when your lord returns."

She was stunned by the sudden change of plans. "I already made preparations for dinner this evening, and I thought you and your men were going to stay here?"

The short king laughed, "Well, lass, as much as I would love to be the one to ruin your reputation, I do have a bit more honor than that." He winked at her as he and his men began donning their gear. "I look forward to you meeting me in town in the morning to ride down to the port. Good eve, lass!"

Morgana stood there with her mouth agape as the men walked out into the courtyard. She was partially thankful for the turn of events, but completely baffled at the same time. As much as she dreaded the idea of meeting him the next morning, it was a lot more pleasant idea than him staying in the fort, for that alone she was thankful.

Her mother came out of the kitchen and looked around confused. "Did you scare them off?" She asked, half-jokingly.

"No, he doesn't want to tarnish my reputation by staying here without the 'lord' present. However he expects me to meet him for a ride down river in the morning."

Vivienne chuckled, "I've met that man a handful of times since coming up here, and I've never been able to figure him out." The older woman walked back into the kitchen to let the others know to stop the cooking and try to save what food had been prepared for the next few days

Morgana rolled her eyes, "If he wasn't so annoyingly disgusting, this might actually be fun!" She tapped a slender finger against her lips in thought. "Actually, this could still be to my advantage," an evil smirk appeared on her face as she realized this could be a great opportunity to show Merlin how to play the games of nobles.

(*~*~*~*)

Loholt woke feeling a cloven hoof pressing into his backside. Part of his mind thought he would wake up in a bed, either at the hostel, back in Camelot, or better yet – home. The reality of the night in the small cave after probably the worst day of his young life began to set in.

The little pig blinked up at the boy and nuzzled closer, feeling the need for companionship. He could relate to the sense of unease in the blond boy as he had been through the ringer of late as well, although he couldn't convey it in words. His life before had been posh, with no luxury spared. His own father had taken up a lordship near the outskirts, while his uncle- the supposed heir, seemingly stood back and just allowed the kingdom to be over-run by Helios. Roderick took the time to amass an army of his own and waited until the time was right to reclaim his family's heritage. When the warlord was killed in Camelot, Roderick made his move. Mordei attempted to claim it, as was his birthright, but the small scattering of men left over from when his forces were defeated left him in no position to argue.

Now, after experiencing days being hunted, the little swine found the first friend he could ever remember. In a boy who didn't seem to care who or what he was. The pig wanted at least to tell the blond boy his name was David, but it came out as nothing more than a grunt and squeal.

Finally picking himself up, hungry and tired, Loholt put his damp boots back on and affixed the laces as best he could, "Well, come on pig, I suppose we better find something to eat."

(*~*~*~*)

"You know Merlin I was actually a bit apprehensive about traveling with you." Cai remarked as they rode out of the castle with Lord Simon and a few of King Roderick's other men.

"After what happened with Lisanor, I can understand."

"No, it wasn't that. Although I think we still need to have a discussion about that particular situation at a later time. But no, it was just… you. You are a riddle…" Cai trailed off observing the look on Merlin's face. "Is something amusing?"

"Only that I have been told that many times before, and I still don't know what to make of it," the warlock chuckled. "At least now were going to be out with them searching, and from what we were told, we'll be starting close to where they found us. I want to take a look around there for my dagger. Simon promised me that none of his men saw anything resembling it and well, hopefully we can get them to agree to look for Loholt as well."

"Trust me, I'll be looking and if anything has happened to my nephew, I will be holding you accountable," The knight said kicking his horse forward.

After a couple of hours ride the group made it to the remains of the hideout. Most of the bodies had been taken care of by a few soldiers that stayed the night, watching for signs of other bandits.

Merlin was scouring the remains and questioning the soldiers, while Cai searched the surrounding area. One of Simon's men escorted the knight back to the camp where they had been taken from. In surveying the scuffle, obscured by the recent rains, the green-eyed man began to feel a pit form in his stomach when he couldn't find any sign of his nephew. He and his escort made their way back to the others.

"Any sign of him?" Merlin asked to which Cai shook his head.

"What about around here?"

"Possibly," The warlock shrugged and pointed off behind the hideout. "There was a body found run through just down a path through a hidden ravine not far from here."

Lord Simon came to join them and explained the situation with more clarity, "A group with hunting dogs found the thug while searching for the prince. The trackers say there was a bit of a scuffle and a set of smaller prints running away from it. Those tracks soon joined with that of the prince near a stream."

Cai could feel hope stirring within him. He was beginning to worry that he would soon have to live a life of exile in a foreign land if he did not return to his sister with her son. "Well, where are they now?" He demanded of the old warrior.

"The dogs almost caught up with whoever it was, but then lost them near the river about a league away. My boys searched all morning up and down the river, but didn't find anything."

Merlin was giving Lord Simon an incredulous look, "Are you serious?" He asked with a disbelieving smirk. "Your men were hunting a boy and a pig with dogs? Well, I wouldn't want to be found either if I heard the hounds coming after me. It's called simple self-preservation."

Cai's lips quirked up in a grin at the sudden realization on the commander's face.

Catching himself being berated for the slip of incompetence Simon started becoming flustered. The thick grey whiskers along his cheeks twitched and his face turned red. He really wanted to argue the point, but instead turned to his men and began yelling, "Pull back all the dogs. We search on horse and foot only!" The old man turned on his heel and stalked off.

"I agree with you to a point about the dogs, but how do we track them without something to pick up the scent? Or do you have something in your bag of tricks for that?" The knight queried.

Merlin covered his face with his hand, "I have no idea, but it seemed logical." The warlock began to pace around a bit.

"I haven't known you that long, but I've seen enough to know you think you've missed something," Cai mentioned as he watched Merlin chew on the side of his thumb. The warlock's eyes shot towards him with a shrug.

He stopped, his mouth open, the gears in his mind turning. Hunting wild boar with dogs. The memory of an apple in the mouth of the swine when served up. The odd daydream a few days back at the way station… Merlin then glanced at his companion with his wide goofy grin, "Yes, I did." He hollered over at Simon, "Is there an apple orchard within a few days walk of here?"

Simon nodded, although he appeared thoroughly confused by the question.

Cai let out with a hearty laugh of relief as he understood the significance, "Let's go get those boys."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Afallach- was said to be a god/king of the isle of apples which somehow in the course of language translated to Avalon. So I figured eh, druid sorcerer... apples and Merlin's Little Pig story- they all worked together hehe. And Maelgwn was said to be the King of Anglesey around the 6th century according to writings by Gildas he was said to be one of 5 kings at the time that were to represent the beast in Revelations and bring about the apocalypse. Once I started reading some of the stuff about him I just couldn't help throwing my interpretation of his character into this story. Especially since he was called 'the tall' when a couple of accounts describe him as short. And the whole 'Dragon of the Isle' reference was just too good to pass up hehe


	28. Chapter 28

"Well I'll be a pixie's uncle!" Simon muttered with a smile on his face as he looked around the path entering the orchard. The aging commander set most of King Roderick's men to the forest and the river where the pig had last been seen, while he accompanied the two from Camelot on what he deemed as a fool's errand looking for some apples. Just off the trail he found the tracks they were searching for. He glanced at Merlin, the mutton-chop sideburns raised on his cheeks in a grin.

Cai dismounted and tethered his horse near the edge of the trees. "Loholt?" He called out as he started into the grove; Merlin and Simon headed out in other directions, also calling for the boys.

It didn't take long to find them, boy and pig together curled up at the base of a large tree, sound asleep. Loholt grudgingly awoke hearing his uncle's voice. He peeled open his blue eyes, not realizing at first that the man in front of him was real. "Uncle?"

"Yeah, boy, it's me," Cai grinned and engulfed the young man in a hug. "Are you alright?" He asked with concern seeing the blood stains.

Loholt nodded and withdrew, "It's…I… well, it's not mine." He started tears coming to his eyes and he began trembling as his mind finally allowed itself to process what had taken place. "He came on me in the woods, and threatened to kill me. I didn't know what to do… he had Lord Emyrs's dagger and I was so scared. I'm sorry, uncle."

"You did well, taking a man's life defending yourself is no small thing, but you survived. That's all that matters."

The pig next to them startled and began squealing as Simon came up beside them, "We've been looking for you, Prince David."

Loholt's face scrunched up in confusion and he glanced down at his new friend, "Prince David?"

David squealed again in delight, nuzzling the boy, and then spinning around in circles.

"Yes boy, this," he thought for a moment of how to best describe the situation without possibly offending his prince, "This is King Roderick's son, a sorcerer turned him into…"

"A pig?" The teenager said, beginning to smile through his tears. He looked down at his friend, "Well, don't worry, I'm sure Lord Emyrs can change you back, he's a warlock."

Simon's eyes narrowed. He first looked to Cai suspiciously then his eyes moved to the lanky man coming towards them. "So, a 'warlock' are ya, Lord Emyrs?"

Merlin froze his blue eyes wide. "Uh, yeah," he responded hesitantly.

"Well then, I suggest you do your magic before we get back to the King, if he finds out you've been holding out on him he'll toss you in the cell with the healer," the older man threatened.

"Lord Emyrs!" Loholt said upon seeing the man. He excitedly pulled Merlin's dagger from his belt. Cautiously he handed the blade to its owner, "I found this. It was a mess, so I think I cleaned it up at the same time I cleaned my sword." He seemed proud to have been of help in some way.

Merlin took it from him, swallowing hard against the rising emotion. He forced a smile of thanks. Loholt meant no harm in clearing the magical weapon of the dried blood, and he knew this, but it didn't stop the disappointment he felt at not being able to save a small bit of the red dragon for when he tracked down Morgause. He reconciled himself with the thought that it might have been tainted anyway from the bandit having taken it in the first place. "Thank you," he managed to say to the boy, ruffling the blond hair.

"It's magical, isn't it?" Merlin nodded. "Last night, I was cold and wet. The dagger felt warm though, and I think I cast a spell but it was probably just that, and not me, I'm sure." He looked nervously at the warlock, unsure if the man might be upset at him using the mystical blade in such a way.

Dark eyebrows rose up and Merlin smirked, "Well, which ever it was, we can look into it more later." He turned back to the prince. Kneeling down beside him, the warlock allowed his magic to flow out and touch the enchantment surrounding the pig form. He could feel the strength of the spell behind it. It would take more than the normal magic within him to release the curse, "Whoever the man was that cast this, was very powerful. I'll actually need Alice's help to reverse it."

Simon appeared disappointed, "Fine then, back to the castle we go."

As the others made their way back to the horses, Merlin paused to look around. A strange sensation of being watched descended upon him.

 _'Emrys, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.'_  A voice spoke into his mind.

Merlin spied the source of the voice standing next to the apple tree where they had found the boys.  _'You must be Afallach,'_  he assumed. "Please don't tell me you turned the prince into a pig just to meet me."

An ageless man stepped towards him. His long straight brown hair flowing lightly around his shoulders and framing a long narrow face. There was something otherworldly about the man. "No, however, I am not unhappy with the results. The prince has learned his lesson and will become a good ruler someday, finally understanding how it feels to be helpless and in turn help someone else who needed a hand."

Merlin nodded slowly. "I see," he said, although he really wasn't sure if he did. "So why don't you lift the curse now that it's over? The king offered you double whatever his brother paid you."

Afallach winked, "And triple if I turned Mordei into a pig as well. However three times nothing is still nothing. Perhaps, I still feel there is something to be learned in all this."

"Hazzah, more riddles," the warlock responded sarcastically.

"Take this," Afallach chuckled and held out a small apple. Merlin took it reluctantly, wondering what he was supposed to do with it. "It's not a snack for the journey home if that is what you are thinking. The seeds you plant will grow strong in the heart of Albion. Tend to them wisely, Emrys." The man turned around and began to walk away.

"Tell me, is it a curse of magic, complete boredom, or the senility of age that make you and all the other 'ancient' mystical beings unable to give me straight answers?" Merlin startled and spun around when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Cai was standing there with a worried expression on his face, "Who are you talking to?"

Looking back towards the tree, he wasn't surprised that the man was gone. "Oh you know, just myself as always, it seems," He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. Glancing over the unassuming apple in his hand, he couldn't determine anything special at the moment, so he stuffed it into a pouch on his belt. "We'd better get out of here before I completely lose my mind."

The knight attempted to muffle a snicker.

"What?"

Shaking his head Cai smirked, "I think it might be a bit too late for that, my friend."

"Thanks. I appreciate it. Really, I do!" He stated with mock appreciation before he scowled behind Cai's back as they rejoined the others.

(*~*~*~*)

Upon their arrival Simon sent out a rider to call off the search before carrying the pig prince into the throne room. He filled the king in on what had happened, making certain to describe that it was Lord Emyrs who managed to find the runaway swine. The mutton-chopped man also pointed out that the lord from Camelot also had magic at his disposal. The king leveled an accusing gaze on Merlin who proceeded to explain that yes he should be able to change the prince back, but he would need a work space and Alice's help to accomplish it.

Less than an hour later he found himself in local physician's quarters searching through the supplies. The physician was a middle-aged balding man with an extremely bad attitude about having his workspace invaded. For the most part Merlin ignored the man after he realized he would get no help. It wasn't long after that Alice was brought into the room.

"Ah good, shall we get to it then?" Merlin asked with a smile.

The old woman sighed impatiently, "I already told you, I don't have the abilities to lift the curse from the prince and I doubt any of the skills you might have learned from Gaius would allow you to do anything."

Merlin opened a vial and sniffed its contents, scrunching his face in disgust, before setting it next to a large bowl. "Well, it's a good thing I have other skills I've picked up along the way as well."

She looked at him with condescending eyes before giving a little huff, "Very well then, what do you require of me?"

"I would like you to help me mix together a potion." He sat another jar of red powder on the work table, "You see- I figured if we could somehow modify a potion Gaius and I used to reverse an aging spell and accompany it with a transfiguration spell casting…"

Alice's brain began to process, "I see where you're going, and yes it just might work. However my powers are focused in healing, not in changing the very nature of a being."

"AH!" Merlin said excitedly, "But that is something I am quite good at."

"You have magic?" She asked. He nodded guiltily. "Well then why not just cast a spell to reverse it all, if you have such knowledge?"

Merlin stopped and bit his lip, "I already thought of that, but the uh, 'man' who did this in the first place was powerful and to make his point, I don't think he used just a simple spell."

The healer began moving around the room and checking over the ingredients Merlin already gathered, "So he's stronger than you are? That's not surprising."

Merlin chuckled, "Naw, I wouldn't say that, he just has more years of practice."

She was caught off guard by the casual way Gaius's ward spoke. It was stated as a simple matter-of-fact, with no egotistical intention. Alice paused and studied the boy as if she had never seen him before and perhaps, she realized maybe she hadn't. She began to see why her old beau might have been so protective over this young man.

Merlin paused and looked over the ingredients. He rubbed the back of his neck and didn't appear pleased. Glancing up at the local physician he hesitantly asked, "I don't suppose you have any Lacewing flies?"

"Certainly not! What would I such a thing for in healing?" He responded haughtily before turning back to his book and once again ignoring Merlin.

Alice laughed, "Ah Gaius always had a weakness for keeping on hand the more exotic ingredients. A trick I taught him," She winked at Merlin and moved to her bag that was brought in with her. Sifting around she pulled out a small box, "Ah here we go. It's not Lacewing's but that is where we can be a little lenient. Dragonfly's should work just as well for binding."

The young man laughed, "And well, if by some chance it turns him into a dragon, then that would be easy for me to deal with."

"Would it now?" She asked, measuring out the ingredients and pouring them into a small copper cauldron set over a flame.

Merlin tried to smile innocently, "Yeah, I'm kind of a dragon lord." He shrugged apologetically as he began to stir the mixture.

"Ah, that explains it." She gave him a knowing grin.

"Go ahead say it, I know I look like my father," he rolled his eyes waiting.

Instead he was surprised when she reached up and patted his cheek, "No my boy, you're much more handsome than he was."

The warlock blushed and they continued on with their task.

(*~*~*~*)

A few hours later, and more than a few failed attempts, they believed that they had finally come up with the winning combination. "Shall we call in the prince and give it a go?" Alice asked with a twinkle in her eye. Although apprehensive at the start, she had soon warmed to the young man through their shared work. She could see so much of Gaius's influence in him and the familiar way he would process the making of a potion.

Merlin nodded and asked a guard to bring in the pig.

Others came into the room as well, including the King, Loholt, and Cai. They were followed by a woman who appeared like she was going to faint at even a passing shadow. Merlin assumed it must be the prince's mother. The boy was eager to see his new friend transformed, as was the king.

"Alright, this will more than likely be the most disgusting thing you have ever tasted, and it might get a tad uncomfortable, but here we go." He looked at Alice and nodded.

The healer held up a vial to help the little pig drink, while Merlin began casting his spell, " _Edniwe hine sáwolberend."_

(*~*~*~*)

Two teenage boys raced each other up and down the stairs from the courtyard, the larger of the two in obvious need of the exercise, finally came to a stop next to his father, panting heavily. His mother came up beside him with a worried expression, "Darling, you shouldn't exhaust yourself so. It's not good…"

"Oh for goodness sake Sarah, let the boy run!" The king warned his wife. He turned to Merlin and extended his arm, "Thank you again for all that you did, Lord Emyrs."

Merlin smiled and grasped the king's arm, "I'm glad we were able to help each other, My Lord. I'll tell King Arthur of your proposal for peace when we reach Camelot."

Loholt returned to his uncle's side, and stood in front of the prince, "You'll come to Camelot and visit too, won't you?"

"I shall!" The portly teenager replied, "And you must promise me, if you don't become a knight in Camelot, you must come back here and be my knight!"

The blond boy nodded eagerly, "I promise."

Soon after the two men, one boy, and the healer they came for headed out of Southron bound for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appletrees  
> The Black Book of Carmarthen XVII
> 
> Sweet appletree, your branches delight me,  
> Luxuriantly budding my pride and joy!  
> I will put before the lord of Macreu,  
> That on Wednesday, in the valley of Machawy  
> Blood will flow.  
> Lloegyr's (England's) blades will shine.  
> But hear, O little pig! on Thursday  
> The Cymry will rejoyce  
> In their defence of Cymimawd,  
> Furiously cutting and thrusting.  
> The Saesons (Saxons) will be slaughtered by our ashen spears,  
> And their heads used as footballs.  
> I prophesy the unvarnished truth -  
> The rising of a child in the secluded South.


	29. Lancelot's Secret

Arthur groaned into his hands. It was late and he knew he should be going to bed, but the problems of the kingdom kept arising. The fact that the king dreaded this time of year didn't help matters.

The change in the laws of magic his people had accepted better than he anticipated. Merlin's heritage being revealed was grumbled about in dimly lit corridors, but no one could challenge it. The command change for the knights to a man without noble blood was met mostly with indifference, although a few from his father's day would have preferred Gwaine or one of the other knights that was less of a commoner. Even the idea that Morgana had a change of heart didn't seem like that far of reach. Yet, from the moment they arrived back from the Perilous Lands with a talking head and a strange pale girl he could feel the upheaval in the town, and especially amongst the noble council.

On top of all that tomorrow night would mark the fifth anniversary of the worst and possibly best year of his life. Samhain, a holiday once celebrated as the final harvest and a chance to bid farewell to those that departed from this life during the previous year, was a sore spot for all who resided in Camelot. It was the day the veil was torn and hell was unleashed in a form that couldn't be fought with weapons. Despite all the other times the city had fallen into the hands of others trying to claim it as their own, or even when the dragon attacked, and the number of people that died during those times, nothing could amount to the sorrow felt as his people fell, frozen in fear by the vengeful spirits from the other side of the veil.

Less than a month from now would be the anniversary of his birth, his father's death, and Arthur's subsequent coronation. The sacrifice of a friend, the betrayal of his uncle, banishing Gwen from Camelot, losing nearly everything he once held dear. Five years as king. He sat back in his chair and stared out the window at the moon. Five years since Arthur received a wakeup call about his crimes against the druids. Almost five years since Merlin told him a story about a sword, he smiled remembering how if it wasn't for the faith of that one idiotic servant, everything would have been lost. The kingdom, Guinevere, himself.

He sat forward, hands flat on his desk as his thoughts began to play out in a different direction, and suddenly he was feeling rather irate. Merlin. He puckered his lips and stared at the door, almost willing his dear cousin to enter at that moment. Five years since the bloody awful servant tried to make a mockery of the king. "He 'had to pee', right… He made me carry him and he kicked me," Arthur bit down on his bottom lip, his fingernails digging into the wooden desk. "Nearly made me look a fool in front of Queen Annis. I'll bet he's the one that turned me into a simpleton and then concocted that entire story about King Bruta!"

The king had to keep himself from yelling the out the name when there was a knocking at his door. Arthur grabbed one of his boots and called out with a sadistic smile, "Enter!"

George barely managed to duck the heel of the projectile footwear. His breath caught in his chest from the fright of immediately being assaulted. His voice squeaked out, "Your Majesty." He couldn't help but note the utter disappointment on the king's face.

"Damn, I was hoping it was Merlin. Sorry about that," Arthur muttered, falling back into his chair.

The servant attempted to clear his throat, "Well, I came to tell you he has returned and requested your presence in the physician's chambers, Sire."

Arthur grinned manically, "Thank you, George!"

(*~*~*~*)

Arthur stormed into the physician's chambers without knocking. He immediately set upon Merlin, "Why wasn't I informed immediately upon your arrival?"

The warlock looked confused, wondering what had type of critter had crawled into Arthur's under drawers, "Because you told us to sneak in?"

The king's cheeks puffed out as he bit back a retort. It was true, he had said that. He looked around the room, finally realizing there were more people there than what he thought, especially for so late in the night. Alice was sitting over near Gaius's bed, speaking lowly with him; Percival was out on patrol, so Gwaine sat near Cai, Loholt, and Merlin pretending to take their report. Hunith was making tea and standing next to Guinevere- the two women now watching the exchange between Arthur and Merlin. "Guinevere," Arthur addressed his wife, wondering what she was doing in the chambers.

"I was already here helping with Gaius when they came in. It was me who sent George to fetch you. So don't give me that look Arthur Pendragon," she responded patronizingly.

"What has your skirts in a twist, princess?" Gwaine asked with a smirk.

The king huffed and crossed his arms. "Do you know what day tomorrow is, Merlin?" He addressed his cousin.

Merlin nodded, everyone in Camelot knew that the following day would be Samhain.

"Five years, since possibly the most difficult year of my life. And I have been wondering, what did you do during that year? Besides make a fool of me on numerous occasions and try to get yourself killed occasionally?"

"What did I do?" Merlin's head fell to the side, his ear nearly brushing his shoulder. His mouth hanging open slightly in disbelief and his blue eyes wide and staring blankly at the king for the space of a few moments.

"Well, I'm waiting."

"Are you serious?" The warlock blinked slowly, he personally didn't feel the time was right to bring up things that happened years ago, but the resolve in Arthur's face told him that the king wouldn't be backing down until he was satisfied with some answers. It occurred to Merlin that aside from some observations when the blond man first recognized his magic, and some talking about their family in the north, the two men had yet to take the time to hash out many unanswered questions.

"Quite."

"Well, let's start out then," Merlin stood up to face his cousin. "First off, because of my connection with magic I was hit with the power of the veil tearing, which is why I collapsed at the feast. I jumped in front of a doracha to save you, I planned to walk through the veil myself to save your sorry ass, but one of my best friends, the only one other than Gaius and my mother that knew of my magic decided to beat me to the punch because he knew you needed me here. I then tried to thwart your uncle, or find proof against him, for which you of course didn't believe me. I tried to save your father only to find out that you told Agravaine who with magical help caused the spell to backfire and kill him instead. I saved the last dragon egg, and your life in the process."

Gaius coughed at this point. The others in the room passed it off as a normal bodily function for an old man. Although it made Merlin pause and blink momentarily before he continued on his tirade, understanding the warning his mentor was giving him. "I used my magic to counter Morgana's when you were facing off against Annis's champion, which by the way if you had listened to me might never have come to that point.

"Oh, I was taken hostage, tortured,* subjected to a magical creature called a Fomorroh, woke up in a bog…" he trailed off when he heard Gwen snicker, "Hush you."

The queen tried to bite her lip but the laugher began rolling out of her. "I'm sorry, Merlin, but it has been a long time since I even thought about how bad of an assassin you were."

"Assassin? What?" Arthur was completely confused now.

"Good thing Morgana didn't know about my magic, otherwise things would have turned out quite a bit differently. But I don't know why you're complaining my lady, I heard you got a good look at…"

"That's enough Merlin," Gaius warned his eyebrow hidden near his hairline as he suffered his own memory of seeing the king nearly naked.

Arthur glared at his wife, who was blushing more deeply than he had ever seen finally realizing the time they were referring to.

"I think you should move on Merlin," the queen suggested.

"Right then where was I… Oh yes. Gaius was kidnapped, accused of treachery, and tortured. My closest friends tried to kill me over a woman. I… saw… a lot of other things and was either helpless to do anything about them, or…" he stuttered, not wishing to relive Lancelot coming back or the betrayal. Nor did he feel it was necessary to bring up Gwen's banishment. "Then you almost got married to Mithian. Not long after that I had to get you out of the castle as Camelot fell, put up with your mood swings, kill Agravaine, and give you the pep talk of the century, summon a dragon. Oh yeah and sneak into the castle, scare the daylights out of Morgana, steal her magic, and…"

Gwen gasped, "The roof collapsed." She recalled, her mind had always been curious about how she escaped that day disarmed and facing a very angry priestess.

Merlin nodded in answer to her questioning gaze.

"You saved my life that day. Again, it appears."

Merlin shrugged, "It's what friends do."

Arthur was just staring at Merlin, an unreadable expression on his face. "You killed my uncle?"

Melin rubbed his lips together and his gaze darting around the room before he forced himself to look at Arthur. He nodded, unsure of what the king was thinking, "He gave me no choice, Arthur. It was him or me."

Arthur flopped down on the bench and closed his eyes. The room was cast into an uncomfortable silence. No one dared to breathe as they waited for the king to respond. Arthur was toiling over the information. Reliving the days where he almost lost everything to his uncle…including his best friend. It took a few minutes, but he finally looked up at Merlin and nodded, silently telling him that was enough for now.

The warlock breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Alright then, so tell me about this Manticore thing with…" He waved his hand towards the healer woman.

"Alice?"

Arthur nodded. His anger finally sated with the answers Merlin had given him.

"Right then," Merlin smiled and sat down across from his cousin.

(*~*~*~*)

The holiday came and went, with only a small feast after a day of honoring those that passed. Arthur was accepting of the explanation concerning Alice, and she had agreed to stay. She made it perfectly clear she was there for Gaius, anything else would be decided later. The treatments she was administering on the old man appeared to be working, and everyone could see the love rekindled in the two healers. Merlin was busy spending his time between assisting them both and taking care of Aithusa who had taken to reading very quickly under Geoffrey's tutelage.

A few days later Merlin decided it was time to do something Arthur had requested a while back. He saddled a few horses and gathered some supplies for a small overnight trip before approaching the king. "Arthur, are you busy?"

The blond king looked up from his desk with a scowl, "What do you think, Merlin."

The warlock shrugged, "It looks to me like you could use a break."

"Gods yes! What did you have in mind?" Arthur was quick to push his chair back, "Offering to be a training dummy, emphasis on dummy or some hunting perhaps?"

Merlin's eyebrows pinched together, "Actually I was thinking of grabbing Gwaine and Percival as well and taking a short ride."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully, "I'll tell George to pack my crossbow and we can do some hunting while we're out too."

With a roll of his eyes and a heavy sigh, Merlin shook his head. Some things would never change.

(*~*~*~*)

The four men stood somberly on the lakeshore. It was the anniversary of Lancelot's first death and Merlin brought them to the familiar lake just outside of the city.

"If only my eyes had been opened sooner to everything," Arthur said sadly, all thoughts of hunting had fled his mind when Merlin explained where he was leading the four of them. "This place feels so familiar."

"You remember Sophia?" The king milled the name over in his mind for a bit before nodding. Merlin continued, "Yeah, I didn't exactly knock you over the head. I actually swam in to save you from drowning after defeating her and her father."

"Ah," he always thought the story Merlin and Gaius had given him was suspicious.

Percival appeared the most upset when he was told this was the lake where Lancelot had been laid to rest. He whispered more to himself than the others, "I need to tell her." Shuffling his feet he looked up at Arthur, "By your leave, Sire, I need a few days off to make a journey."

"Of course, where to?" It was unlike the giant man to make such a request.

The revelation of Lancelot being raised as a shade after giving up so much for Camelot didn't appear to be sitting well with the man. Although it did answer many questions for him about his friend's return from the grave, "Lancelot's wife, Sire."

"He had a wife?" Gwaine asked suddenly very interested.

Precival chuckled, "Well sort of. She was the daughter of a gypsy lord, before we came to help you all. She had tricked him into 'jumping the broom' with her, and by her people's laws, it meant that they were married."

Merlin had to chuckle and wonder why Lancelot never told him. "And of course he was too honorable to back out of a commitment such as that."

"When he received word from you requesting aid, he jumped on it, I think hoping he wouldn't have to go back. She's a nice girl, but a bit out there. I went and told her of his sacrifice after the doracha, and found out she'd given birth."

Gwaine, Merlin and Arthur's heads all snapped simultaneously towards the large knight. Merlin recovered first, "He had a child?"

Percival nodded, "She named him Galahad."

"Percival, what aren't you telling me?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

The knight looked confused, "What do you mean, Sire?"

"Lancelot had a son, Gwaine and even Merlin here were sort of unknown sons. There's…"

"Your son." Merlin offered quickly.

Arthur drew a sharp breath, his face tightening, "Yes, there is that as well."

"Have you and Gwen talked about it?"

"She knows but… Oh, shut up Merlin."

Merlin gave him the stink eye.

"Fine, I'll try to find a way to talk to her about it."

"Galahad…" Gwaine stared off pondering the name. "I've heard it somewhere before. Was the name from her family or something?"

"No actually, while Lancelot and I were travelling together, there were a couple of times he woke up from dreams, well nightmares really. When I finally got him to talk about it, he said he remembered a battle when he must have been a baby and someone calling him Galahad…"

Merlin could have groaned, "Are you certain, Percival? I recall a few times talking about dreams with him, but he mostly spoke of his parents who were killed when he was almost nine." Although the warlock had to admit, most of the private conversation between he and Lancelot was centered on Arthur and Merlin's magic. He knew Lancelot's story from the time around his parents' death, but never pressed much further beyond that.

"Oh bloody hell! Now I know where I've heard the name! It was the lost prince of Caerleon," Gwaine spouted off.

The others looked at him oddly.

"It was one of my father's favorite stories," He explained. "Since he was a knight of Caerleon's father at the time. There had been a battle with Uther and Camelot when they almost lost their throne to him. The king's grandson, so Caerleon and Annis's son, as a baby was supposedly stolen by fairies when they escaped. My father said Caerleon was injured and it was while Annis was tending to him that the kid disappeared. Most everyone, including my father, thought he had perished, or was carried off by his nursemaid, and it was just a story spread so they wouldn't appear to be weak and without an heir. The prince's name was Galahad!"

The large knight nodded attentively, "I'm sure that was the name he said. It was only once he ever talked to me about it, and I'm reasonably certain he had no idea about the stories of this lost prince."

"I think Gwaine and you need to pay a visit to Queen Annis before we jump to any conclusions," Arthur suggested to Percival. "Afterwards, if she can confirm the story, head out and find this woman. I think we owe it to Lancelot to make sure his son is taken care of."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Vulgate Cycle, volume 3 – Lancelot Proper: When the king was run out of his castle seeking aid from Arthur, and killed, his wife was so grief stricken she neglected their son, who they called Lancelot, but his baptismal name was Galahad. The infant was then taken away by a fairy -the lady of the lake and raised without knowledge of who he was. Add in parts from other tales of him also being the father of Galahad …well… what can I say LOL
> 
> So fitting in the Merlinverse tid bits about The Battle of Denaria where Uther defeated King of Caerleon and forced him to flee to Castle of Fyrien (referred to in ep 3.7) it was a simple jump for me to throw those in a mixing bowl and add my own twist ; -) Gwaine's realization was one of the pieces I wrote out early on in this stories development. And if you look at pics of Steven Hartley (Caerleon) and Santiago Cabrera they could very believingly be cast as father and son.
> 
> Oh and if anyone thinks I'm going overboard on the whole everybody is a long lost/hidden noble thing… well Merlin is about the only one I had to make that up on… REALLY! I'm even skipping over how Percival could possibly be related to King Pelles or 2 or 3 other suspected relations.


	30. The Heir Of Caerleon

"My Queen, there are two knights from Camelot that seek an audience with you," One of Annis's chamberlain's said.

Annis was currently in a meeting with her naval captains, deciding the shipping schedules for the coming year. It would be at least three months until the seas calmed enough for the spring shipping lanes to open fully and with the addition of vessels coming and going from the Llyn Pennisula it looked to be a prosperous year. She glanced at her captains, "We still have time to solidify our plans, so let us call it a day and return to meet this next week shall we?"

The captains all agreed and bowed to their queen before leaving the room.

"Bring the knights in please," She told the servant. It was always interesting when someone from Camelot arrived, and Annis doubted this time would be any different. The two men were led in, they bowed respectfully. "Ah, Prince Gwaine and Sir Percival, what a delight to see you both."

"My Lady," Gwaine smiled, he took her outstretched hand and kissed her knuckles, "Thank you for allowing us to speak with you."

"Always a pleasure," She smirked at his flirtatious nature. "Please have a seat. Tell me, how is Camelot adjusting to the change in policies?" Annis motioned for one of the servants to bring them all some wine.

"As well as can be expected. Many are embracing it, but there are some people you can never please," the rogue said taking a long drink of the wine.

"I'm sure discussing your kingdoms politics is not why you came. So tell me, what does bring two of Camelot's finest to my kingdom?"

"It's probably a rather personal matter and, well I'm not sure how exactly to approach it."

"Go on," The queen implored, feeling a slight sense of foreboding.

"Um, years ago, when I was about five, my father was a knight of your husband's father. So I always listened to the stories he would tell. One was from a couple years before he came here about you and your late king's son," He paused, watching her reaction.

Annis stiffened. She knew well the rumors and stories. After thirty-two years, she had never forgotten the son that was stolen from her. The heartache suddenly felt as raw as it did on that day and she didn't trust her voice so with a wave of her hand compelled the knight to keep speaking.

Gwaine shifted uncomfortably, "We might have known him. What was his name?"

The queen drew a shaky breath, she noticed how Gwaine spoke in past tense. Very softly she spoke, "Galahad was his Christian name, but we called him Lancelot."

Percival and Gwaine looked at each other, the larger knight nodded. "He was a good friend and a loyal knight of Arthur's. He was the one who brought me to Camelot."

"I'm sorry, was?" She had to know. It didn't matter if what they were saying was true; the thought that he might have survived that day and gone on to become a man was pulling at her heart. She longed for closure.

"Do you recall when the doracha spirits were plaguing the lands near Camelot?"

Annis nodded, "They were everywhere, though from my husband's sources we heard Camelot was one of the worst to suffer."

Percival picked up the story, "Morgana had torn the veil and it required a sacrifice to seal it. We went there with Arthur. He was planning on going through, but we were separated and…"

"…And knocked out." Gwaine continued, "Somehow in it all Lancelot decided to go through."

She felt the air leave her and silent tears began to form in her eyes. "Are you sure this man was my son?"

"It all fits with the stories I heard," the rogue shrugged, a bit uneasy.

"Tell me more about him, please," Her hands were rung together tightly in her skirt under the table.

"Lancelot had dreams sometimes of when he was an infant and being called Galahad. I guess his parents would always tell him it was just that, a dream as he was growing up. Then when their village was attacked he was almost nine and was the only one to escape. He told me his mother's name was Ninianne…"

Annis gasped, "Anne was my son's nanny's name. That is the name he called her… Nanny Anne or Ninianne as a one year old boy could manage." Despite her upbringing and schooling to never show her deepest emotions, the Queen was helpless against the flow of tears streaming down her face. It was a relief knowing that her son had grown into a man worthy of becoming a knight of Camelot, but she was torn finding out that she would never meet him. "His father would have been proud of his sacrifice."

The two men allowed Annis a few minutes to grieve. Gwaine began shifting in his seat.

"Is there something else you wish to tell me?" Annis asked in an accusing tone. It wasn't her intention to take out her pain on the knights, she understood they were not there to tell her this with any ill thought.

Percival shifted and cleared his throat, "Lancelot was tricked into a marriage some years back by a gypsy. When I found her afterwards to tell her of his sacrifice, she had given birth to a son."

It didn't take long for the information to sink in. The queen stood, placing her hands on the table she demanded in a dark tone, "Where can I find her?"


	31. Whispers of the Past

"Prince Bran, I can just as easily pick you up and dunk your entire head into the bucket," George stated cynically. He held a washing cloth in one hand and a bowl of sudsy water in the other.

Bran's eyes narrowed, "But you won't do that, because you're a good servant."

"Why are you refusing to let me assist in cleaning you up, without you trying to bite me, My Lord?"

"Because last time you got soap in my eyes!"

George clicked his tongue against his teeth, "I must protest that was not entirely my fault, My Lord."

"I don't care who was at fault, I spent the last three hundred years without being able to get clean. I do not require washing up every day! It's not as if I'm actually doing anything," He rolled his eyes. Initially the new body and company of another was a welcome diversion to the centuries spent in solitude, and during that time he was still able to walk away if he needed the silence. Now in Camelot completely at the mercy of others Bran felt as if he were going to crack.

Either he was down in the library with the scholar constantly asking him questions and filling in parts of history that seemed to be missing, or Aithusa was using him to play hide and seek when she grew bored of reading and etiquette training. Although her game wasn't entirely unwelcome as he relished in the few moments of silence before he was found. The longest of which lasted a nearly a whole blissful day deep in a cavern under the city. Then after he had been placed up on the roof of yet another tower King Arthur had assigned George to maintain a near constant vigil on his head. Bran couldn't remember a time when he had been so annoyed.

Much of the day was spent strapped to the servants back as he went through his daily chores for the King. Any normal person would have gone mad with the years of solitude; Bran felt insanity creeping in from the constant chatter and horrible jokes he was subjected to and longed for the days of his quiet life. Clarissant would take him occasionally, but she was having her own issues adjusting to life in Camelot and spending much of her time assisting Guinevere. Add to that- the Queen was not as welcoming of the bodiless head as her husband appeared to be. It wasn't that she was purposefully rude; she simply did not know how to handle the situation.

"Can't you just go do something without me? Why do you have to treat me like this?" The head whined.

George sighed, "I am under the king's orders, and you have seen what happens when I do not follow his directives to the 'T'."

Indeed Bran had. From the sling on the servants backside Bran suffered the full brunt of Arthur's temper in the form of a plate hurled at the servant. "Weren't you and Merlin working on finding a replacement?"

The mousy servant sat the bowl and cloth down and groaned melodramatically, "Every potential candidate we can come up with either doesn't have the skills, the temperament, or has outright refused the job. Lord Emyrs is still the only one, who before becoming a Lord, could handle the King's needs."

"Then it sounds like you need to find someone just like Merlin."

"Do you think he has the magic to make a copy of himself?" George asked hopefully.

(*~*~*~*)

Merlin knocked softly on the door of the physician's chambers. It felt odd not to just burst in through the door as he used to when he lived there. Not so long ago these chambers were his home. He heard Gaius's voice call to him and made his way inside.

"Merlin!" The old man smiled from the chair at his desk. "What brings you to my humble quarters?"

The younger man gave a half-hearted smile, "Came to see how you were fairing. It's good to see you out of that bed finally."

"It's good to be out of it," Gaius responded with a twinkle in his eye. "I can't thank you enough for bringing Alice back into my life."

"Where is she?"

"Out running errands and deliveries. But I get the sense that you did not come here to see her," His body might be frail, but the old physician's mind was still sharp as always. "So what is troubling you, dear boy?"

Merlin sat down heavily on the steps looking out the window and rubbed his hands over his face. He was silent for a few moments glancing out over the city below, "I feel lost, old friend."

Gaius sat back and raised an eyebrow evaluating the young man. He could still see his young ward and sometimes apprentice in Merlin's face, but the last few months had aged the boy, forcing him to grow up. No longer were his shoulders weighed down by the secrets he'd been accustomed to, instead he wore the mantle of nobility and all the responsibilities that came along with it.

"Is it wrong that I want things to go back to how they were?"

"I thought you hated that? Always chasing after Arthur, washing and polishing, cleaning up after him…and his horses?" He asked, recalling the many times Merlin would come home covered in horse dung and straw.

The dark-haired man made a face, "Well, not really mucking out the stables, but it was simple hard work. I didn't have to think as much when I was doing it. I could forget everything and just focus on the task. Now I'm listening to tutors, reading through laws, being told I'm not acting or wording things properly. I shouldn't address this person as if he or she is higher ranking than me. Even many of the knights I used to travel with are treating me differently. And on top of that, there's the other servants. Most just avoid me now, I'm the enemy, I'm no longer one of 'them'. I don't know if I can do it, Gaius."

"You can and you will, as you always have." Gaius motioned over to the kettle next to the fire, "Why don't you make us some tea and then we can really process it all."

Sighing, Merlin nodded and moved over to the hearth.

"How's that girl of yours doing?" Gaius asked in an attempt to make small talk, waiting for the teapot to boil, while his brain worked on something meaningful to say to his ward.

"Good, she's really been absorbing everything Geoffrey can throw at her. If she keeps this up she'll have read the entire library before Imbolc," He smiled thinking about the young dragon. "Geoffrey just beams with pride about her quick mind every time I speak to him about it. Oh and did you know with Bran's help they were able to figure out that he is actually Arthur's…and I guess mine too, Great-great, I don't know how many times, Grandfather?"

Gaius leaned forward, "I have to say, I did not. That is rather fascinating. And it does not surprise me about Aithusa, she is a dragon after all."

Merlin chuckled sourly, "Yeah, good luck trying to get her to remember that. I love her more than anything, but I want her to be who she is, not who she thinks I want her to be."

"Ah, the pains of fatherhood. Most parents want their children to be a certain way and are disappointed when the child decides to do just the opposite. Just look at Arthur and his father, and here you are in a similar situation."

The face of complete disbelief was etched on Merlin's face, "Did you just compare me to Uther?"

Gaius laughed, "In a sense, yes. Although I could never see you locking Aithusa in the dungeons until she turned back into a dragon."

"Do you think it would work?" Merlin asked, half-jokingly. "I'm worried about Arthur, too. Sometimes when he thinks no one is watching, I can see him favoring the wound across his midsection. I wonder if I should try to go on my own to find this cauldron sooner."

The old physician nodded in understanding, "I've been speaking with Alice about the potion that needs to be made. I know you have been focused on the cauldron itself, but have you taken a look at what will be needed to put into it?"

Merlin pursed his lips and shook his head. He had glanced over the potion a few times, but had some difficulty figuring out what some of the ingredients were. The book given to him by the red dragon was written by someone who obviously didn't want to make the brewing easy for anyone. The warlock knew the list by heart, although what it meant went beyond his understanding. "Essence of bewitcher, seed of wisdom, stone of vicissitudes…"

"Well that one is easy," Gaius sat back with a smirk. Merlin gazed at him, waiting for the old man to continue. "That was another name for the Mage Stone."

"Lovely. I have no idea what happened to that thing. Last I knew that sorcerer still had it when Morgana killed him."

"Perhaps Uther put it in the vault?" the physician suggested.

"Naw, I think I would have remembered seeing it there. After all, that is the one task Arthur has me doing that makes sense. Cataloging all the magical relics his father had hidden there," He tried to recall the time years ago when he last saw the mage stone. It was when Gwen's father had been killed, Morgana had been thrown in the dungeons, and then tried to make a deal to assassinate the king. Most of what he remembered was hazy with the passage of time, but he could still recall the feeling of the power that had awoken him when the stone was used. He poured the hot water over the tea and brought a cup to Gaius. Merlin sat down on the steps again with one of his own.

The old man sipped his tea quietly waiting for the warlock to pick up the conversation.

"When Arthur arrived up in Snowdonia, he and I shared a vision quest of sorts," Merlin finally said.

Gaius raised his chin, his eyes watching Merlin with curiosity, "You had mentioned something to that effect before you left for Mercia."

"It's how we found out we were related, as I told you, but there was so much more to it." The younger man sighed and leaned his head against the stone window sill, "It started with showing a few times we shared together. Only we were just observers, and he got to see some of the magic I used. Then it showed us when we found Balinor." Merlin continued telling his mentor of all he and Arthur saw in the vision; of Uther and Balinor's joint history back to the time when they met, when Uther was still a boy of no more than ten. "I don't think I've taken the time to really process it all, or come to terms with it like he has."

"Well my boy, for you it was a completely new idea. Arthur has never been as ignorant to his father's ways as you seem to think, he's just been schooled to purposefully look the other way. Although having this revelation has brought him much needed clarity and look at all the good that has been accomplished," the physician said trying to put things into perspective. "The laws have changed; he now understands what the kingdom was like before his birth. For that alone we should be ever so thankful."

"You're right, I know you are, but why did he have to go and make me his heir? I don't want that responsibility. It was a novel idea at first. I got caught up in the whirlwind and energy of everything. Afterwards we were moving, out on the road doing something that was almost normal. It's been amazing not to hide my magic from him. I get the feeling he wishes I would use it more, but it doesn't seem right to use it for the simple things."

Gaius laughed and shook his head, "I never thought the day would come when the same boy who was using magic for simple cleaning so he could read a dusty old book would utter such a thing."

"Gaius I was eighteen at the time," he gave a derisive glance at the old man.

"Well it wasn't as if you were going to explode if you couldn't use magic."

A smirk grew on Merlin's face, "Some days I'm not so certain about that." He grew somber again, "I've been hearing things about town recently."

The old physician raised his eyebrow again, his right eye opening wide with curiosity. Since the accident the old man had been confined to his quarters and unable to spend any quality time outside the main castle.

"Lord Edmund and a few others are none too happy with everything that's been taking place. I'm worried that they might decide to do something more than talk."

"Have you spoken with Arthur about this?" Merlin shook head. "Perhaps you should, he needs to know if something is amiss."

"I have no proof of anything, just a gut feeling. How am I supposed to tell him? Some of these are lords that have sat on the council longer than I've been alive."

Gaius sat back thoughtfully, "They were Uther's loyal lords, _not_  Arthur's. He should be told about this and he trusts you to watch out for him."

Merlin bit his bottom lip, "You're right, it's just hard not to fall back on old habits."


	32. The Perfect Job

The sun was high in the sky reflecting off the armor of the knights spread around the practice field. Merlin sat on the sidelines watching as the men changed from using Cai's nephew as their new practice dummy to being paired off for more one on one training. He was glad to see the king taking some interest in the boy, but at thirteen Merlin personally felt it was a bit too soon to allow some of the knights to wail on him the way they used to with Merlin. He could detect the concern in Cai's demeanor as well, but he figured if the knight wasn't going to say anything it wasn't Merlin's place to bring it up.

He had yet to get a chance to really speak with the boy about what had transpired on their trip to Southron. Loholt was certain it was the dagger that held the magic, but knowing the boy's family had some, Merlin wasn't as convinced. However until someone more suitable to the task of taking the blows on the field appeared, the boy was pretty well locked in. For the most part Arthur's son seemed to relish in the time he spent with the knights, taking their jests and taunts in stride, even though sometimes he appeared that he could hardly hold the shield up.

Absent mindedly Merlin picked up one of Arthur's swords and began polishing it while he waited for the king. It didn't take long for Arthur to notice him. The king walked over and removed his helm, "You know I have actual servants to do that. I don't need an idiot cousin who can't get it through his thick skull that it's not his job anymore."

Merlin shrugged nonchalantly and set the blade aside, "Can I talk with you a minute?" He asked timidly almost expecting the king's typical response that it was not Merlin's place to choose when they would speak. Of course in the past that usually was followed with the warlock blundering ahead with conversation. It had been a few days since the conversation with Gaius and as of yet he hadn't been able to get up the gumption to converse with Arthur about his apprehensions.

The king looked him over and noted the worry in Merlin's face, "Of course." Arthur called to a passing servant to bring him some water before turning back to Merlin, "What's on your mind?"

"Just some concern about a few rumors I've been privy to," The warlock glanced around to make sure no one was near enough to overhear them before continuing. "There are some who are from your father's council that don't appear to be as accepting of the changes as they outwardly seem to be."

The serious look on Arthur's face let Merlin know he wasn't the first to bring this to the king's attention. "Find me some proof," he said. Merlin could detect the tiniest hint of consternation in the king's voice. "I will not move against them in a paranoid witch hunt the way my father used to. However I do not want to be caught completely unaware and would rather the situation be taken care of clandestinely before anything happens."

The dark-haired man knew that especially around this time of year Uther Pendragon was a sore spot for the king. Arthur was doing his best despite the numerous betrayals in the past and his own upbringing to not act out rashly. Merlin was about to respond when George approached them.

He acknowledged the king properly before turning to Merlin. "My Lord, there is a man here claiming to be your kin," George said with a hint of skepticism. He knew Merlin's heritage, and the young man who had begun asking the guards about where he could find Merlin, was not in that history.

"Who is it?" Merlin asked with confusion. Other than his mother, Arthur, and Aithusa he had no family that he was aware of.

George motioned over to the edge of the field where a young man stood behind the guards kept away from the private practice field. Merlin smiled and laughed when he saw the sandy haired man glowering at the armed men. "Well, I'll be! That's not someone I had expected to see!"

The servant raised his eyebrow, "I take it you are familiar with him?"

"Yeah, he's an old friend," Merlin glanced back at Arthur.

"We can continue our conversation later. Personal feelings aside, I will trust your wisdom in this situation," he stated somewhat cryptically.

The warlock got the message his cousin was trying to convey. Find something solid, or take care of the problem quietly before it got out of hand as he now realized Merlin had done for him many times before. Arthur turned on his heel and stalked back out to the training field without another word.

Merlin grinned at George, who remained purposefully ignorant to the small bit of conversation. "Where's Bran at today?" he asked as he followed George over to where the other man was waiting.

"I…uh… actually…"

Merlin stopped, "Did Aithusa take him again?"

George cleared his throat, "She swears she has been down in the library all day and hasn't touched him."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying his best not to laugh, "I'll have a talk with her and find him, you go on with your duties."

"Very good, My Lord. Thank you."

Merlin watched the servant head back towards the main castle before moving back to the man waiting impatiently near the guards. "Gilli!" He smiled brightly.

The younger man grinned as the guards finally let him pass. "Merlin, or from what I hear I should say, 'My Lord'," The young sorcerer from the tournament years before bowed before him.

Merlin motioned him up and engulfed the younger man in a hug, "I knew someday our paths would cross again."

Gilli nodded, "Yeah I heard the news." He glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, "Is it true? Are we actually free?"

Merlin smiled proudly, "It is my friend. Come you can help me find a missing head and we can talk."

(*~*~*~*)

"Wow, you weren't kidding when you said that woman was a bit 'out there'," Gwaine did his best to contain the snickering that threatened to bubble up inside him.

Percival shook his head in exasperation. That morning they had parted ways with Queen Annis and her guards after nearly two weeks of searching out the traveling gypsy band with Lancelot's wife. The two knights heading back to Camelot and the queen towards her own kingdom with her newly discovered grandson. "I never thought she was that bad, but to sell your own son… there has to be something seriously wrong with you."

"Eh, I've seen the likes of it before. And it's hard for a woman to raise a kid by herself, as we both know. Add in that her entire family treated the boy like scum just because his father was an outsider who chose honor over a woman who had tricked him." He let out with a low whistle and shake of his head, "Deep down she probably thought it was best for the kid to get away from that life."

The large knight stopped his horse and gazed at his companion in confusion, "Sometimes I don't understand you. You call her insane with one breath and then are defending her the next."

Gwaine shrugged with his arms outstretched and a smile on his face, "Yeah I do the same thing with my sister. What's new about that? Both observations are true."

"Your sister is not insane," Percival stated vehemently causing the rogue prince to pause and turn around.

He puckered his lips and his bushy brown eyebrows were pinched together tightly forming a single brow as he studied his big companion. "Is there something you wish to tell me, _friend_?" he challenged.

Percival flushed with embarrassment and averted his eyes. "No, I just meant…"

Gwaine began laughing at his friend's discomfort. "You know, I wouldn't actually mind it if you were interested in her, but since you're not, well there have been a couple other knights hinting about wanting to pursue her," He gave Percival his trademark carefree grin before clicking his tongue to set his horse moving again.

Blue eyes widened in shock and Percival's mouth fell open in silent protest at the thought of someone else wooing Clarissant. Gulping nervously he called out, "Gwaine, wait!"

(*~*~*~*)

"So what have you been up to since we last saw each other?" Merlin asked as they walked through the castle heading for the library.

"Oh this and that, traveling mostly and trying to keep my head down and still attached. I could hardly believe the news when I heard. Although what I was told were two different things. First that a servant had become a lord and heir and second that magic was allowed. However it was told by different people and not as if the two things were related. I was surprised to find out you were that servant." The younger man who had once nearly beat the king of Camelot in an open competition grinned cheekily.

"Well, although I don't have to keep it hidden, my magic is still something that isn't common knowledge," Merlin looked Gilli over. He was thin and a bit haggard looking. "How have you been surviving these past years?" The warlock asked with concern.

"Barely if truth be told. I'm no good at farming, or herding. As a sell sword I'm too poor and opinionated for any real work. People still don't want a sorcerer around and my healing spells are too crude to be of any use if they did. Which is part of the reason I came back to Camelot, I hoped since the laws had changed I might be able to find employment." Gilli paused for a moment as something Merlin said caught up with him, "Wait, did you say we're looking for a head?"

Merlin nodded. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck as he thought again about trying to explain the existence of Bran. Gilli caught him off guard before he could answer, "Does this head have dark scraggly looking hair and seems to be alive?"

"Um, yes," The warlock answered. A feeling of unease was settling in his stomach.

"There was a man dressed as a servant carrying a basket out of the main gates into Lower town as I arrived. He stumbled a bit and I thought I was imaging things when I saw the cover slip and there was a head in it that I swore looked at me." Gilli licked his lips, his arms folded across his chest as if expecting this all to be some sort of joke. "Afterwards he threw the cloth back over it quickly and disappeared down an alley."

Merlin was quiet as thoughts went through his mind. In complete seriousness he asked, "Would you recognize this servant if you saw him again?"

"I think so. It was real, wasn't it?"

"Very much so. Come on, let's get to Lower town and see if we can find him." Merlin took off quickly through the castle with the young magician close on his heels.


	33. Losing Your Head

Merlin sat at a corner table in The Rising Sun, casually watching the comings and goings of its patrons while he nursed a mug of ale. It was rare for the warlock to be seen in the tavern without the knights of Camelot, but the owner of the establishment, Evoric, didn't question the young man's presence. After serving him the drink and a bowl of stew with a piece of crusty bread, he allowed Merlin his space and went back to take care of his other patrons.

The warlock sat back, trying to appear relaxed, but inside he was fuming. His newly found fame was more of a hindrance then a help for the current situation. He recalled Gwen's wise suggestion of learning how to manage others; he supposed that was something she had to learn the hard way as well although he never thought about it before now. It might be worth it to speak with her on a deeper level about the situation in future, but for now he was attempting to be patient while he waited for Gilli to join him.

After realizing the young sandy haired man witnessed the abduction of Bran's head the two men made their way quickly out of the castle. Passing George in the hallway, Merlin quickly asked him in more detail about the last time he saw the bodiless prince. The manservant confessed that he left Bran alone for a few moments earlier that morning when Arthur kept changing his mind about what shirt to wear that day before finally deciding on one that was being laundered. Catering to the king, George left Bran on a table just outside the washing room of the castle. At that time of day the place was filled with maids cleaning the clothing and bedding from nobles rooms. He confessed the last time he took Bran in there, the prince nearly suffered a concussion from getting jostled about. When the mousy servant came back out the head was gone and he was in a hurry to get the shirt to the king, so he just assumed Aithusa absconded with it, again.

Merlin harassed the smaller man about anything out of the ordinary that might have caught his attention. Finally George confessed that there was a new servant who had been following him around a bit. He thought the boy, like others in the past, was simply spying to find out the secret ingredient for the metal polishing concoction George used. After a few more questions to other workers around the palace, the warlock found out the boy was a recent hire by the Lady Thea, who happened to be Sir Leon's mother. Unfortunately no one had seen the boy since earlier that morning.

Outside in the town was where Merlin received a wake up call. Prior to all the chaos his new position created the black-haired warlock could run through the alleys and Lower Town without speculation. He was Arthur's servant and Gaius's assistant; there was no reason to question his comings and goings. The two men at first went to the household of Lord Gavin and Lady Thea to inquire of the servant and were rebuked with cold words from the Lady, who was visibly upset that her son's body was gone from Camelot. There was no real information to be gained, but it did give Merlin a bit of insight as to the reasoning behind a few of the rumors of nobles quietly questioning the king's sanity. Although not high on the food chain in titles and rank, Leon's family was among the oldest in Camelot and still held a lot of influence. If they weren't happy about something- a casual seeming word here, or a tear to garner pity there, and the gossip mill would soon be working overtime. Which could very well be a part of what Merlin had tried to speak to Arthur about earlier.*

Afterwards they began wandering the alley where Gilli had last seen the boy holding the basket. The warlock could feel eyes watching him as they meandered along. More than once he was questioned by passersby about various council decisions or to be asked how the physician was faring. People knew him now as someone close to the king, recognizing him as more than just an errand boy. He cursed his fate and finally sent Gilli out on his own, agreeing to meet at the tavern following the afternoon None Bell. So now that was where Merlin sat, doing everything in his power to keep his feet from tapping nervously while he waited.

It wasn't long after the bell that the sandy haired wizard made his appearance. Years of being on the road by himself had taught the young man how to enter and leave places discretely. If Merlin hadn't been looking for him, the warlock might have missed Gilli coming through the door. After a quick nod hello, and ordering his own tankard, he sat down at the table. The tavern was beginning to fill with people as they finished their daily work and took a few moments to relax before heading home to evening chores, so no one paid the two men any mind as they quietly discussed Gilli's findings.

"Does the name Edmund mean anything to you?" The young man asked taking a drink, his narrow set eyes darting around the room.

Merlin's eyebrows pinched into a frown as he thought about the name for a moment. He nodded to Gilli, "Lord Edmund was one of Uther's strongest supporters and I believe he is the loudest voice among those protesting the changes. Why, what did you find out?"

"I couldn't find the head, but I did see a few well-dressed men entering a backdoor a few lanes down from the alley I took you too earlier. They didn't all go in at once mind you, it was like they were trying to be sneaky about it. One had the crest of the house we visited and I heard someone call another man who looked ready to go in Edmund, but then this Edmund fellow looked spooked and walked on by it."

"Did you see how many?"

"Five or six at least went in and out. It didn't look to be a place noble types would frequent."

Merlin sat forward and sighed into his hand, "That's probably where they have it then." It was beginning to make sense who was involved. Leon's family of course would be upset that their only son out of three children, was comatose after the battle and now his body was missing. If they blamed it on the king it wouldn't matter what the current politics were, or if they agreed with them. Lord Edmund had the possible means and was the voice of dissention among the council; they would fall in with him if they thought for a moment he could help their family.

Gilli took a hefty drink, "I don't think so. I couldn't hear clearly, but I swore one of them said the cursed thing was safely out of Camelot."

The warlock bit his tongue as his shoulders sank from the news. "I need to update Arthur about this. Meet me in Gaius's chambers just after the compline bell." Merlin stood and dropped a coin on the table to pay for his meal before handing another to Gilli, "Get yourself something to eat."

(*~*~*~*)

Merlin stood in his usual spot while he watched the king pace. "I can't believe someone would steal him!" The king roared out. "From the castle, no less! George is going to have to be punished for his negligence."

"I don't think throwing George into the stocks or the dungeon would do any good. He's done his best with you continuously acting like a spoiled prat and trying to do his job with Bran strapped to him constantly. He just figured it was Aithusa messing with him again." The two men stared at each other angrily.

Gwen sat at the table watching the interaction, "Merlin, do you have any idea who would do this?"

The warlock pursed his lips, "I have my suspicions. Lord…"

He was cut off abruptly as Arthur lunged forward and shoved a finger at Merlin's face, "Unless you have something more than suspicions, I don't want to hear the name yet. There is enough upheaval amongst the council, if I start acting suspicious towards one of them it could escalate, and that is something Camelot does not need right now."

The years of knowing the king coupled with his training under Gaius, Merlin did not miss the slight flinch Arthur tried to hide from moving too fast. He understood more than anyone, even the king perhaps, that Arthur's body was beginning to falter, however faintly, from the strain of it all. He would need to speak with the king about taking it a bit easier on the training with the knights. The added stress of a possible coup forming was taking its toll on the king's body. Tomorrow was his thirty-first birthday, but the strain in his face bespoke of a man much older.

Arthur grabbed a jacket from his wardrobe and shoved his arms into it, "Merlin, I need you to do things as you have in the past. It is your destiny after all."

"Where are you going, Arthur?" His wife asked with a troubled tone to her voice.

"I need some air," he responded as he left the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Merlin rolled his eyes and grumbled, "As if I could."

The queen gave her friend an odd expression, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"That prat made it nearly impossible to do anything for him. How am I supposed to take care of things now? No one used to care if I ran through the halls or down the streets. I was nobody! Why the hell did he have to publically acknowledge our relation? And then 'oh no that's not good enough, I'll surprise him and everyone in the kingdom by making him heir' and he did it without even asking me!" Raking his hand through his hair, the warlock sighed and slumped down into a chair next to Gwen. "Did you have as much trouble adjusting to the notoriety as I seem to be?"

Laughter bubbled out of the queen until she was forced to wipe tears from her eyes. "Experiencing the complete lack of being able to move freely through the town. Not having the chance to make a mess without someone else cleaning it up for you like you're an invalid. Feeling like you're losing your mind because some near stranger is organizing everything for you and you can't find a thing?"

Merlin's eyes were wide as he nodded fervently, "Exactly!"

Gasping for breath Gwen sat back, holding her sides, "No Merlin, I can't say I have any idea what you're talking about."

"A lot of help you are then! I couldn't even walk through the streets today without being noticed and followed. Every move I felt like I was being judged."

She reached over and squeezed her friend's hand, "I wish I could say it will get better…"

"But?" He looked at her hopefully and felt his hope dashed away when she snickered.

 


	34. Who Needs a Nanny?

The two former servants were still laughing and comparing notes when Merlin noticed how late it was getting. It was nearing time to meet Gilli. The warlock stopped by the physician's chambers on his way to Arthur's to inform Gaius to be expecting a guest. Alice didn't seem very pleased about it as her love was still recuperating from his hip injury. The older woman was attempting to be assertive and becoming rather defensive about him, but Merlin was protective of him too and wanted to include his mentor in the conversation he was soon to have. Gaius's advice over the years and the bond of surrogate father and son wasn't broken simply because Merlin no longer lived in the storage room.

After prompting from Clarissant a few days before, Guinevere finally decided that she wanted to speak with Alice about her situation, but had yet to garner the courage to go by herself. For the queen this appeared to be the perfect opportunity. Merlin started to protest when Gwen said she wanted to accompany him there and the queen finally confided in him some of her feelings and desires.

"You don't understand how desperately I want to give him a child. Maybe in her healing experience she has something that might help. Plus, if I'm speaking with her, then you can have Gaius to yourself for a bit," The queen reasoned brushing her dark curls over her shoulder as she rose from her seat.

Merlin nodded reluctantly and offered her his arm as they headed across the castle. They walked along together in silence. Finally unable to contain his curiosity Merlin breached the subject of children, "Arthur told you about Cai's squire?"

Gwen stiffened and tightened her hand on Merlin's arm as they began to ascend the stairs leading to the physician's chambers. She blinked and looked to the side while worrying her bottom lip in a mannerism that none of the finishing tutors in the kingdom had never been able to break her of. "He did," She managed quietly after a time.

Merlin cast a glance out of the corner of his eye, "Are you alright with that?"

"Am I supposed to be?" Her voice held a hint of accusation. She knew it wasn't Merlin's fault but her mind was still filled with jealousy at the woman she'd met only briefly over the course of the tournament, feast, and treaty. Gwen couldn't blame Lisanor, or Arthur, for something that happened years before the now king had even noticed Gwen's existence. Yet the situation that the king had a child by another woman was not easily put aside.

The warlock shrugged, unable to give the queen an answer. "You were my first friend in Camelot. I worry about what all this is doing to you."

Her eyes softened as she studied his face. "You've changed so much since that day in the stocks when I saw a hero of the serfs standing up against an arrogant spoiled aristocrat, and yet your heart and kindness in thinking of others has never been lost."

Blue eyes smiled down at the queen, "Nor have yours, although I am glad to see you finally figured out what type of man you liked."

Gwen gasped and slapped Merlin's forearm playfully, "I always knew I liked the hero types, I couldn't help it that sometimes they were too daft to notice, even if I outright kissed them."

Merlin knocked briefly before he pushed open the door to Gaius's room. His face set in confusion, "Who did you kiss that…" He stopped, unable to finish his question as the realization suddenly dawned on him. He flushed with embarrassment and allowed his mind to briefly entertain the prospect of what life might have been like if he hadn't been so blind.

The queen chuckled while she followed him in, "Really Merlin, you may be one of the wisest men I know, but Arthur is more than right in his assessment that you are an idiot sometimes."

"Of which you should be entirely thankful for!" He reasoned as he attempted to recover from the insight of his past naiveté. He felt eyes on him and noticed the room's three occupants watching him. Gaius, as usual, seemed to know exactly what their conversation was about and his eyes twinkled with amusement. Gilli was squirming uncomfortably, while Alice had a look on her face that somehow managed to mix a patronizing contempt at the intrusion and a matronly understanding of what it meant to be young. Merlin found himself slightly annoyed at her attitude. He of course was thankful that she was back in his mentor's life, but he felt as if Alice was on some level trying to make it a competition for the old man's attention.

The young sorcerer leapt to his feet and came up to Merlin, the consternation in his eyes evident that something else had been found since they parted earlier that afternoon. "We need to talk, now," Gilli demanded in a low voice.

The queen cleared her throat and looked the raggedy young man over, hinting to Merlin for a proper introduction which Merlin was reluctant to give. "Gwen would you mind…" He offered a pleading smile, blue eyes darting towards Alice.

Her dark brown eyes glazed over with suspicion, "Mm hmm." She took the hint and moved away from her friend. Gwen approached the two healers with a smile.

"My Lady, what brings you to my humble chambers?" Gaius asked pleasantly.

She attempted miserably to stop her nerves from getting the best of her as she wrung her hands together, "Actually I came to speak with Alice, if you don't mind?"

"Of course. Have a seat, my dear," He offered her a space on the bench at their quaint dinner table.

Taking a breath, Gwen bit her lip, "It is really a private womanly matter. I hope you understand."

Alice smiled at the queen, "Well, come along we can go into  _my_  room and speak." The smile turned into more of a smirk when the healer saw Merlin's eye's roll. She had nothing against the boy and in fact was very grateful of the situation he had taken her from to bring her back to Camelot, but she had an ornery streak in her that could rival Gwaine's. She could tell he resented his new position like any child that had been usurped from his home in such a manner would. Gaius asked her to be nice to the boy, so she was…to an extent, however Alice couldn't help but take enjoyment in ruffling his feathers. Soon he would understand that it was all meant jokingly. Or at least she hoped so.

The queen followed Alice up the small stairs to the side room and closed the door behind her.

Merlin watched them go, biting back his feelings. He sighed and placed a hand on Gilli's shoulder, leading the younger man over to the table. Gaius was watching his ward, his eyebrow raised in amusement. He evaluated the two youngsters, although grown men, to his eighty plus years they seemed nothing more than children. Merlin nodded for Gilli to begin as they settled onto the bench.

"After you left the tavern, the guy I saw earlier that didn't go in you know where came in and met up with one of the others that did. I used some of my magic to listen in on their conversation."

Gaius sat up straighter. "Although magic is free in Camelot, you need to be careful," He began lecturing. When the young man arrived at his doorstep, Gaius was surprised to remember him from the open melee years before. He hoped Gilli was much more careful this time around with his gift.

"Gaius please," Merlin requested, "This is about the situation we were discussing a few days ago."

Gaius leveled a serious gaze on them both before the elder asked, "Are you any closer to finding out who is behind this?"

"Yeah, we managed to get a couple of names today. Lord Edmund for one, but why he would have Lady Thea's servant steal Bran eludes me," Merlin stated.

"I must say, I am not at all surprised to hear his name mentioned. Perhaps the mere idea of an enchanted head in the castle was simply too much for them all to take in after everything that has happened."

The sandy-haired man ruffled his hair with his fingers, "Well they said something about the problem being taken care of but they might have to move up their plans due to someone's stupidity. First step would be to remove the 'bastard's' family so he would be distracted."

Merlin felt his blood turn cold. However much work Geoffrey and Arthur put into making his birth legitimate, the warlock still heard that word whispered through the halls in reference to him. Either that or someone found out about Loholt. Whichever it was could spell trouble. "Did they give any more clues about who it was or what they were planning?" He questioned eagerly.

Gilli sighed, "No, another person came along and they shut up real quick about it."

"We've got to find Bran, Gaius."

"I kind of took a snoop around the place we saw earlier. I found the basket I saw earlier and a pool of blood," Gilli said uneasily. He was unsure if Merlin would approve of him taking the initiative to do such a thing.

"Well, they already said it was out of the city. Although I can't imagine there would be too much blood from Bran's head."

"Have you spoken with Arthur about organizing a search?" the physician asked tiredly, the pain in his leg was beginning to throb from the prolonged sitting at the bench.

"I tried, Gaius! He doesn't want to make a move until we are absolutely certain. He's not thinking clearly right now and is so afraid of turning into Uther he refuses to make a decision."

Gilli snorted, "Seems like he needs a nanny to look after him."

"Who needs a nanny?" Guinevere asked coming down the stairs.

"Your husband," Merlin stated cynically. A thought popped into his head and he turned towards Gilli with a wide smile that made the younger man squirm.

"I have to say I don't like the way you're looking at me."

 


	35. Lex talionis

Vivienne chuckled as she opened the wooden chest. She looked her daughter with an amused glint, "It is another gift from the king. Furs this time it seems."

Morgana rolled her eyes. It was her plan to play coy with King Maelgwn and get him just interested enough so that when Merlin returned she could play off the jealousy she knew he would feel. However, the king appeared to be more attracted to her than she initially hoped. Every week he sent a rider with gifts for the keep. At first it was food and other necessities that would help over the winter. Then a jeweled necklace with a green gem almost the same color as her eyes arrived with an invitation to his castle on the nearby Isle of Mona. She attempted to return the necklace and invitation with a polite refusal. However the following week the jewels came back with a bolt of undyed silk and the request that she have a dress made out of it for when she arrived.

He was nothing if not persistent. Some of the gifts were accompanied by letters hinting at thinly veiled threats of how he could simply have her and the keep if he truly wished. The former priestess could feel her magic tingling at the thought of the short man filthy man thinking she would be such an easy prize. As more of her memories of the dark days were coming to the forefront of her mind, she knew inside herself was the power to destroy the vulgar little Viking. With her mother and the druids she had begun separating her own abilities from those implanted in her by Morgause's spirit. It was strange how she could recognize now the limitations of her sister's magic, and deep down Morgana feared that she might succumb to a new form of darkness if she allowed herself to follow the urges to eliminate the king.

"Do you want to try and return it to him again?" Her mother's voice broke through her inner turmoil.

Morgana sighed, "No, it won't do any good. And his letter this time promises a personal visit if I do such a thing." As much as she hated to admit it, she felt she was in a bit over her head when trying to deal with the chauvinistic monarch and his conflicting intimidations and flirtations, especially while Dinas Emrys was still rather unguarded against threats. She actually wished Merlin would return sooner than the promised spring, although she feared their last encounter might have pushed him too far. Perhaps he would just laugh at the situation and try to offer her as a way of making peace with the so-called Dragon.

(*~*~*~*)

Merlin made his way through the corridors of the palace, yawning into his elbow. It had been a long day and it still wasn't over yet. Gilli was set up and ready for tomorrow, he hoped. Although Merlin felt certain the young man would be cursing his name well before mid-morning.

_"It's perfect, Gilli! Arthur doesn't need a nanny per say, ok maybe he does, but what I need is someone who can shadow him, especially when he gets too far into his own head about things, and you need work. It is probably going to be the worst job you can ever imagine, and you'll be horrible at it. He'll use you as a training dummy, but with your sword skill already it might not be as bad, and he'll probably try to train you even more in it."_

_"So in exchange for getting things thrown at me, having to dress and feed a grown man, clean up after him and do whatever he wants of me, I can get training in swordplay from the King of Camelot himself?"_

_Merlin nodded excitedly, "Yeah that about covers it."_

_"Why me though? I mean, I know you were his servant, but aren't there more better trained people to take over babysitting?"_

_"We've tried to find someone. Most aren't… hardy enough to withstand him. He doesn't need a trained bootlicker, he needs someone who isn't afraid to stand up to for themselves. Plus with your bit of magic, trust me, it will come in handy, especially when he goes out hunting," the warlock explained._

_"I like hunting," Gilli nodded with a half-smile._

_"See you're perfect for the job! Probably even better suited for it than I ever was." Merlin tried thinking of more benefits to press Gilli into agreeing, "You'll get paid, plus a roof over your head and Mary is an amazing cook, but don't try to touch her food before the nobles are served or you'll find yourself working in the kitchens on top of your regular duties."_

_The young sorcerer sighed, "Alright, I'll give it a shot."_

_"Excellent!" Merlin beamed at him, "Just remember though, while you will be working for Arthur, I will still need you to work for me too. Like you did today. You will need to be my eyes and ears among the servants and in places I can't go anymore."_

_The two men arrived at their destination in the servants' quarters of the castle. Merlin knocked lightly on a door and after a few moments it was opened by a recently woken George. The warlock almost sputtered with laughter at the sight of the disheveled looking man. He could not remember a time in all the years of knowing the always prim and proper, never a hair out of place, George where the servant actually appeared human._

_He blinked at Merlin, shocked that he would be in the servants area of the castle, "Is something the matter my lord?"_

_"Not at all, actually I wanted to introduce you to someone,"_   _There was a gleam in Merlin's blue eyes that spoke of true mischief._

_George's eyes scanned over the other man without emotion. He had seen the young man following Merlin around earlier in the day, but he was so distraught about the head being taken, he didn't press the warlock for an introduction. If Lord Emyrs did not want to acquaint him with his companion that was his prerogative._

_"This is Gilli, he's going to be your replacement."_

_The mousy man sparked to life, he thrust his hand out towards Gilli. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he said with undisguised enthusiasm._

After that it was easy to get George agree to allow Gilli to stay with him while he trained and got settled. Plus he knew Gilli could probably get more information out of the other servants about the goings on in the castle than Merlin or George could now. Merlin wanted to know more about the boy that disappeared with the head if possible.

He knew it was late but with what Gilli had mentioned, he needed to speak with his mother before any more time had passed. If the nobles were brazen enough to steal Bran's head what else were the discontented Lords going to do? Or if he took Gilli's overheard conversation a slightly different way, it could be that stealing the head was a fluke. Either way, Bran was out there somewhere. Merlin was at a loss for how to find him and his instincts told him this was only the tip of the iceberg.

Did they mean him or Loholt, or was it someone else entirely caught up in oncoming mess? Merlin didn't have a clue, but it was better to err on the side of caution and protect both fronts. He rapped lightly on the door to Hunith's room, reluctant to possibly wake her. The door cracked open slightly and Merlin could see candles still burning inside.

Hunith smiled at her son, "Shhh, your daughter just finally fell asleep."

A crease formed in Merlin's brow, "Is she alright?"

The older woman stepped back to allow her son to enter, "She's fine, just upset about Bran missing. I don't believe she had anything to do with it."

He felt a pang of guilt. He had been so preoccupied he didn't even think about how the dragon girl must have taken the news and accusations. It only proved to him how unfit he was as a father that he wouldn't have considered finding Aithusa to reassure her. "I know she didn't, but I've been working on trying to find out who did take him," he said trying to reconcile his own emotional turmoil.

"You have so much on your plate, she'll understand more when she's older."

Merlin smiled at his mother's comforting words. They sat down near the dying fireplace; Merlin's eyes glowed softly as he brought it back to life.

"What brings you here in the middle of the night?" Hunith asked reaching out to take her son's hand.

"I need to get you and Aithusa out of Camelot," He stated quietly, his eyes on the flames.

"Does this have to do with Prince Bran?" Merlin nodded but didn't elaborate. They sat together quietly in their own thoughts. After almost thirty years, she knew to trust her son's instincts. "Well, I can take her home with me, back to Ealdor."

Merlin shook his head and withdrew his hand from hers, rubbing his face tiredly. "No, you wouldn't be protected, and it would be too easy to find you both there."

"Well, I did receive an invitation from Lord Godwyn to visit his estate. It seems his daughter had quite a few suitors after the ball and she has agreed to marry one of them. He would like to escort me to the event."

Merlin's eyes shifted over to his mother. Hunith had never before shone any inclination in any man, "I didn't think you would be interested in anyone."

She patted his shoulder and sighed, a sad smile playing on her face, "I wasn't. Perhaps I had always held out some hope of seeing Balinor again. Which is why I never left Ealdor, even with all that happened, I couldn't bring myself to leave thinking there was even a slight chance he might return." Her eyes began to mist over with tears, "Now to find out I am truly a widow, it puts things in a different perspective. You have your life here, my son."

"Do you care for him?" He felt awkward speaking to his mother about the subject. The thought of his mother somewhere other than the village he grew up was a foreign concept to wrap his mind around, "I mean, you could stay here and have a comfortable life, mum."

"Camelot is such a busy place and Godwyn is a kind man," She said trying to reassure her son.

"What about Snowdonia? It's a quiet place and…"

"And far from here. I rarely get to see you as it is and you are travelling so much, I'm sure that isn't going to change for a long time. You have your destiny to consider before all else." Hunith took his chin in her fingers and turned Merlin to face her, "You are my world, Merlin, and you always will be. It is one invitation I am accepting. If something else comes of it, well, it might be nice to have a warmer place than our little hut in Ealdor to grow old in."

He couldn't argue the wisdom of her words. It would give him more peace of mind to know she was being taken care of as she aged. A few moments passed before he sighed in resignation, "Then accept his invite and give Elena my best at her wedding."

"I can even take Aithusa with me to the event," Hunith glanced over at the sleeping child on her bed with a warm smile.

Shaking his head, Merlin replied, "No. It would be too risky to send you both together. Besides she and I need to have a bit of a discussion about what she is."

Hunith looked slightly offended, "She is a beautiful, intelligent, spirited child, and your daughter."

He licked his lips, staring back at the fire, "Yes, and I seem to be as poor of a father as she is a dragon. I think it's time she learned that from someone who can hopefully teach her what it means."

(*~*~*~*)

He was almost back to his own room and ready to collapse when he looked up to see a well-dressed woman with dark curling hair and soft brown eyes standing in front of his door. Merlin almost thought about turning around and finding a storage room or some other hidden alcove to sleep in when the woman spotted him.

"Merlin?" She asked, a tremble in her voice caught his attention.

"Gwen, what are you doing up so late? Tomorrow is going to be busy with Arthur's birthday feast," He said.

Guinevere wrung her hands together nervously, "I understand that, but no one has seen him since he left us earlier this evening. I know my husband well enough to realize he is not fully well. Please, can you just look for him?"

Merlin nodded tiredly and raised his hands in defeat, "Go back to your chambers, My Lady. I'll find him and make sure the cabbage head hasn't done anything stupid."

(*~*~*~*)

Merlin spent almost two hours searching for any sign of the king. His feet were dragging, but the anxiety of not finding Arthur kept him going. He had one last place to check before he called in the guards. He felt a half smile form as he thought of that. Perhaps having status in some situations could be a good thing. The guards and knights wouldn't be as quick to question his authority if he chose to assert it. He also played with the thought that perhaps there were more people out in the land like Gilli that he could hire to be his eyes and ears around the kingdom.

The warlock sighed in relief as he came upon the doors to the crypts and found them unlocked. He should have checked this place first. Making his way through the silent stone passageways he came up to one of the more recent additions to the tombs under Camelot. He could faintly hear someone inside mumbling. The warlock pushed the door open enough to see inside. In the near darkness he barely was able to make out the form of the king slouched in between his parents' sarcophaguses holding a flagon of some strong alcoholic beverage. An empty vessel lay next to the blond man, tipped over when there was nothing left in it to spill.

"Are you just going to stand there gawking like a half-wit or are you going to be joining me Merlin?" The king's words slurred slightly and lazy blue eyes tried unsuccessfully to focus on the warlock. With an unsteady hand Arthur held out the container in offer to the other man.

Making his way inside Merlin settled himself on the ground next to his cousin and accepted the drink. It wasn't every day that the King of Camelot felt like sharing. Inside was a strong dark wine and the dark-haired man knew in his tired state to only take small sips.

"Gwen is worried about you."

"Mmm. Been here the whole time."

"I see that. I'm surprised there's anything left to drink and I'm not carrying your unconscious body back up to your bed." He evaluated the King's state in his mind and realized it wouldn't be long before he would have to try and wrestle with the larger form up the stairs through the castle.

"Find anything yet?"

"Yes."

Arthur sucked on his teeth for a moment, wondering why they always felt furry when he'd been drinking. His mind came back around to realize Merlin hadn't tried to elaborate on his answer, "What?"

"Overheard conversation."

Sometimes the dark-haired man didn't know when to shut up, other times his answers were always too brief, "Did you hear it personally?" He squinted his eyes to where he could make out one Merlin instead of two before answering his own question, "No, but you trust the source."

"I do."

"Fine, fill me in."

"Lord Edmund…"

"Ha, I should have known. Sir Geraint was his eldest son, and technically second in command under Sir Leon. I thought that Edmund was just a grieving ass kisser. But death can change a man and cause him to do uncharacteristic things." He looked at the stone relief on Uther's casket pointedly, "Who else?"

Merlin knew Geraint, the man had a wife and children of his own, so more often than not he volunteered to stay behind with the knights in the castle. He was unaware before this moment of the relation to Edmund. Things were beginning to make sense now, "Lady Thea was the one to hire the servant we now can't find, that we believe stole Bran's head."

Arthur scrunched his face, showing his front teeth in drunk confusion, "Their family has always been loyal to me."

"But that was before their only son came back nearly dead and then disappeared," Merlin offered. Two prominent families, two sons that had fallen while going north to a battle with their king for a man they now suspected was a sorcerer. A theory was beginning to emerge. In the morning, when Arthur – if the king could get out of bed- planned to go hunting, Merlin would stay behind and find out the names of the other knights lost in that battle.

"We should have told them of our plans," Arthur's voice was heavy with guilt.

"No, I only think that would have made it worse. There are a few others involved as well although the situation is becoming clearer as to a motive."

"Hmph, and so what are they planning to do?"

"I'm not sure, but it was overheard that it might be something against our family. I've spoken with my mum and she's been invited by Lord Godwyn to attend his daughter's wedding. So she'll be leaving to go to that."

The king nodded thoughtfully. He hadn't taken another drink since Merlin arrived, for which the warlock was thankful. "Guinevere and I received the invitation as well. I think she should go too. And your dragon?"

"I'll be getting her out of here soon."

"Hmm. What was that saying? The one the Roman's used to say, 'Lex talionis'!"

Merlin's face scrunched in confusion, "I can speak a few words from the northern area, Dragon, and the words of magic. I've never been taught Roman."

Arthur chuckled, it was becoming easy to forget that Merlin hadn't always been a noble and was not privy to any formal education. The king corrected him, "Latin not Roman. It is the law of mirror punishment. An eye for an eye," Arthur's eyes widened for emphasis.

"A tooth for a tooth," Merlin continued somberly, recalling his first day in Camelot. He sighed and took a drink of the wine, "And a son for a…"

"Oh dear god," Arthur started, fear for the boy coursed through him, sobering the king up a bit.

"I don't think they know about him," Merlin assured his cousin.

The king gazed heavily on his companion, "Are you certain?"

"How could they?"

"George found out!" He exclaimed loudly.

"Naw," Merlin's brow furrowed, "he wouldn't be involved. He's too… I don't know what that man is sometimes, but he wouldn't do something like that."

"What if it wasn't intentional? Like, oh leaving Bran on a table? Or what if he'd finally had enough? You yourself said so when you spoke on his behalf and told me not to punish him!"

Merlin mulled it over for a while. The mousy little man was exhausted, bruised, and battered. He was desperate for Merlin to find a replacement, which the warlock finally did just a few hours ago, but what if it was too late? Could the ever faithful and proper brass polisher be a weasel in disguise when pushed too far? "Well if anything he's going to be rather preoccupied tomorrow when he begins training of your new servant, so I can try and look into it."

"New servant? Who?" The king asked suspiciously.

"You remember the common boy that nearly won the open tournament from Uther? After you let your father beat you that is."

"Vaguely," Arthur nodded. Although he was curious as to why a skilled fighter would sink to being a servant, "You know him well?"

"Well enough, we're sort of kin," He didn't want the king to know that in fact he and Gilli had only met during the time of the tournament, then again recently.

"Is he like you then?"

Merlin understood the vague question. Does this new servant have magic? Reluctantly he answered, "Yes, nothing compared to what I can do, but hopefully it'll be enough to help keep you out of trouble."

"I don't get into trouble, Merlin."

"Right, keep telling yourself that, Sire. Someday someone might believe you. And please try not to give him a concussion… for a while, at least."


	36. The King's Present

The world was thrown completely upside down. Bran was suffering from a major headache because of it. If he wasn't gagged, he'd be yelling for someone to at least turn him right side up. In the past month the Prince of Corbenic had been privy to more action, intrigue, and scandal then in the nearly three hundred years prior. He sighed, although it was painful given his current position, and thought over the most recent days.

_"You are not taking me in there again!"_

_"My Lord, I have no choice! The king has ordered me to…"_

_"I don't care what that…"_

_"…not let you out of my sight," George continued without breaking._

_"…What is the word Merlin uses?"_

_"Also he is insistent that he wants the red shirt and…"_

_"Oh yes, dollap head, that's it!"_

_"…I must retrieve it for him, or he might once again…"_

_"What that 'supercillious dollap head' has ordered…"_

_"…Throw something at us both, which could…"_

_"…you to do. I am not going in there!"_

_"…severely injure either one of us."_

_A low growl emanated from the severed head, "Turn your back when he does. I will sacrifice myself to keep you from getting hit. I do not wish to go in that laundry room again! Whatever the …_ Princess  _throws at us is less painful than you turning my face above the steaming tubs of filthy socks and scalding my nostrils with their rancid stench!" He said using Gwaine's personal insult for the king of Camelot, which he now realized was completely appropriate. "Not to mention last time when you took me in there some washing maid freaked out and threw soap in my eyes! Do you have any idea how badly lye can sting?!"_

_George was finally convinced enough that Bran would suffer less at the onslaught of Arthur than in the room filled with suds and hot vapor and screaming women._

_He smiled as he realized that for a moment he would have peace from the incessant chatter of the servant and his continuous anecdotes that all centered around cleaning in some form or another. Or at least that is what he thought until he felt a gag being stuck in his mouth as he was picked up by his hair and shoved into a lidded basket. Then he was being jostled around, obviously being taken somewhere in a hurry. A pock-faced boy who was missing a tooth opened the basket to peer inside as he rushed and then tripped, nearly spilling Bran out into the open streets of Camelot. Unfortunately for Bran, the youth was quick to recover his feet, but in that brief moment the prince was able to make eye contact with at least one passerby. He tried calling for help, but the gag muffled nearly all the sound he emitted._

_The next time the basket opened he was in a room lit by torches and a gloved hand was hauling him up by his hair. The revulsion on the man's face was plainly evident at even touching such a thing. Bran glared down his nose at a fat bald man dressed in rich fabrics who reminded him of an older version of Guirom. The man shook the head furiously before tossing Bran back into the basket, uncaring of which way he landed._

_Bran winced through the pain attempting to regain his senses enough to at least hear what was going on. The bald man was berating the youth for his incompetence._

_"You were told to spy on them and get information about this…head," The man spat into the basket and Bran cringed, thanking whatever god would hear him that he no longer had the ability to vomit as some of the spittle dripped into his nostril. Even when facing Matholwch, he had never been treated with such indignity. He attempted to snort it out of his open orifice._

_The boy back peddled, out of Bran's blurred line of sight over the edge of the basket. "I thought you would be pleased, My Lord. Now you can get the information direc…" whatever the boy was saying was suddenly halted and Bran felt the splatter of warm liquid as some of it came into his container. He could vaguely see the boy's eyes grow lifeless through a small break in the woven basket as his body fell on the floor._

_The man's voice spoke again, "Stupid piece of filth. Get that trash out of here, and take this blasphemous thing with you. I want it out of the city before midday."_

_Another voice came from a man who Bran was previously unaware of, "As you wish, I shall see to it personally that it finds itself drowned in a river or worse."_

_"Call a meeting. I need a change of clothes. I expect this to all be taken care of before I return."_

_A third man spoke up, "Perhaps the boy was right and we can learn something…"_

_"Uther would have had_ your _head for even suggesting such nonsense! If he were still alive, none of this would be happening. Our boys would still be alive and his son would be the one on the pyre!" Heavy footfalls crossed the floor. Then a door was opened allowing shadowed daylight into the room before slamming shut. Bran could only assume the bald man had gone._

_The other two spoke quietly for a moment and Bran couldn't make out their words. He was plunged into complete darkness as the lid was replaced and a cloak or blanket thrown over his current prison._

He bounced in the covered basket and tried to keep his mind occupied against the onslaught of pain from his position. He felt like he was in a wagon moving down a rough road, but more than that he couldn't figure out. Bran had no means of fighting back and this alone pissed him off to no end. Had the boy been fully beheaded, Bran might have been able to use what little power he possessed to call to the body, and without a powerful caster nearby, he would have full control over it, or so he mused. He really didn't know if it would work and he wished there was some way to find out.

A few hours must have passed when the cart rolled to a stop. He heard the driver grunt nearby as if lifting an object then the sound of a thud as the man tossed something on the ground nearby. After a brief rest the cart began to move again. This was not the glorious quest that had been promised to him when King Arthur and his fellows brought him to Camelot. In fact it seemed like nothing was going quite as Bran imagined it.

Throughout the journey to the city, Bran had found himself feeling proud of the man he now knew was his descendant, once back in the citadel and seeing Arthur's true colors come shining through, he wasn't half as impressed. Certainly he was an amazingly great king in public and a fierce warrior, but behind the scenes the man was a spoiled brat that couldn't even dress himself. Privately Arthur was useless without Merlin there to keep him in line.

The raven-haired warlock on the other hand had an ancient wisdom true to his majestic heritage. If he looked close enough, Bran could see parts of the man that reminded him of his own son, back when he was the head of his own household. The day when he and the scholar Geoffrey put the pieces together and Bran realized his son had survived when the kingdom was overthrown was very emotional for him. Merlin was as brave as the king and his knights. His command of the magic was overwhelming, his ability to gain ally's with a smile and friendly gesture was admirable…his self-confidence and the sense of self-preservation that even a normal man possessed lacked severely.

What one had, the other had want for and vice versa to the point where Bran began to wonder if either man could survive without the other. He was sure deep down that they could, but it would be either short-lived or a very boring reality. He mused how his own existence, at least recently was certainly not dull.

He could sense more than anything when dusk began to fall and the cart stopped again. Bran felt his basket lifted and he experienced a sense of vertigo as it was tossed away. He felt and heard the impact of the container against running water and knew he had been thrown into a river. The basket began filling as he felt himself carried away downstream. Luckily for him, his head was truly immortal and after feeling an initial panic that all men have of drowning deep in the primordial regions of the brain, he was able to adjust. He felt more irritation at his situation than anything else as his prison knocked and spun against the rocks causing waves of seasickness to cloud his head.

Then suddenly it stopped. He tried to cough as the water drained out of the basket, but his upside-down nostrils were still filled with the river. The lid opened, and although Bran couldn't see anything from his perspective, his ears caught the sound of a laughter he would recognize anywhere.

* * *

 

After hauling the king up to his room in the wee hours before dawn, and a quick stop by Gwen's chambers to let her know she could rest easy, Merlin had attempted to get a few hours of precious rest before he was assaulted with bright light as the curtains in his room were opened.

"Good morning, My Lord!" George's voice twittered cheerfully.

One blue eye cracked open just enough to see the servant mussing about the room efficiently. He could see Gilli trailing behind him already appearing overwhelmed.

"Forgive me, My Lord, but I thought it might be best if you were to accompany us to wake the king, as I am unsure if he will be expecting the change in personnel."

Merlin groaned in response and pushed his way out of bed. He swung his legs over and teetered on the edge for a moment as a massive yawn caught him. "George, go to the physician's chambers and get one of Gaius's morning after tonics then meet us outside the King's solar."

The mousy man flinched, "Oh dear, did he get drunk last night?" He clucked his tongue and scurried off leaving Merlin still sitting on the edge of the bed and Gilli trying not to laugh.

"So, do I need to attend you, My Lord?" The younger man asked with a smirk.

Merlin simply glared as he hauled himself up and began to get ready. Finally fully awake and dressed, he grabbed a chunk of bread and some cheese off the breakfast plate George had left him offering a piece to Gilli as well. "Don't let George catch me doing that," He mumbled around the food in his mouth. "It ain't 'proper'."

The younger man laughed stuffing the offered food in his own mouth, "I think it's going to be fun working for you."

They made their way to the King's chambers where George was already waiting nervously with breakfast and tonic. Merlin got a sense of just how bad things really had become for the man. The thought played in his mind, that maybe Arthur wasn't too far off base. He didn't believe George would have done anything intentional but in his current anxious state, something might have slipped. He would have to track down Cai and give him the heads up to be more cautious with Loholt. That would have to wait until later, for now the three men were faced with the daunting task of waking up the hung over king.

George sat the breakfast tray soundlessly on the table, while Merlin grabbed the tonic. Gilli felt lost, so he opted to stand back and watch. In exaggerated motion Merlin flung open the curtains, allowing the sunlight to assault the room, "Time to get out of bed, sleepy head, it's your birthday and YOU wanted to go hunting."

A groan of protest emanated from the bed. Merlin wasn't about to let up as he went to the king's side, pulled back the covers and smiled at his cousin.

"Merlin? What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Drink this," Merlin said by passing the question and setting the tonic on the table next to Arthur's head. "I'm training your birthday present, a new manservant!"

Arthur pushed himself up weakly and eyed the cup beside him.

Meanwhile George was gathering the clothing setting it out near the King. Gilli was awed by the efficiency that the two men worked to get the king out of bed and ready for his day. The soon to be former manservant went to the desk and took up a parchment, handing it to the newest man. "Go stand next to the king and read off his tasks for the day," he stated shoving Gilli forward. He looked at the paper in his hand nervously then to the king who luckily wasn't paying him any attention as he grumbled with Merlin about being woken at such an ungodly hour. He tried desperately to catch the warlock's eye. Merlin told him nothing about this part of the job. The rest had seemed annoying, but doable, this however for the peasant magician wasn't.

George began to dress the king casting a waiting glance at Gilli, his hand motioning that the boy should read it off.

"Um," Gilli started uneasily looking down at what appeared to be nothing more than scribbles, "Well, there's uh…"

Merlin's eyes narrowed in thought for a moment as he watched Gilli. He almost cursed aloud when he realized the problem. He went and snatched the paper from the new servant with a smile, "Eh, we don't need this today. It's the king's birthday, he's going hunting and to the feast tonight. Nothing more we need to know," He laughed and tossed the list back on the desk.

George was glancing at the warlock fearfully.

"Good call, Merlin!" The king said as a clean shirt was pulled over his torso. "It is my birthday! So, I suppose this new servant is my birthday present from you, eh? What was your name again?" He asked sitting down and tucking into his breakfast.

"Gilli, Sire," the young man said nervously.

Arthur nodded. Between the tonic and the prospect committing his day to his favorite pastime, the king seemed in a rather good mood, which worried Merlin slightly, "Well, Gilli, at least you know how to use a sword, which is more than I can say for this one. How are you with laundry? And polishing armor? And fetching things when I ask, waking up early, mucking out stables…"

"What he really should be asking is how are you with getting random things thrown at you when some royal prat has a tantrum because he's not getting his way," Merlin offered cheekily. He was prepared for the tonic cup as it came flying at him and dodged it, managing to knock Arthur's armor off the table in the process. "Just like that."

"But hopefully with more grace than my cousin could ever hope to possess." Arthur sighed melodramatically.

Gilli glanced at Merlin and then back at the king, "All I can say is I will try my best your highness."

"Sire, or your majesty," Merlin corrected, "It's something I've had to learn over the years."

"Sorry, try my best sire," He looked at Merlin and George for assurance.

Arthur bit into a sausage and looked him over, a bit unsure, "So do you have any of the same skills as this idiot?"

Gilli once again looked at Merlin who gave a slight nod.

"Not anything like his, but enough to get by, Sire."

"Good. First thing you can do is go tell my wife I wish to speak with her, then go down to the stables and get the horses ready. After which I expect you back up here to help me with my armor, promptly." He said with a dismissive tone.

"I've got some things I need to get on," Merlin said following Gilli out the door. "Have a good time hunting today."

"Merlin," Arthur said sharply and waited for his cousin to turn back to him, "You are coming with me."

"We talked a bit about this last night…"

"No arguments," The king ordered in a tone that left no room for discussion.

The warlock bit his tongue and scowled at the king, "Yes, sire."

He shut the door behind him, mentally cursing Arthur.

"We may have a problem," Gilli whispered reluctantly, "I don't think I can do this job."

Pushing thoughts of the king aside for the moment Merlin turned to study his friend. He offered the younger man an understanding smile, "Can't read?"

Shaking his head fretfully Gilli replied, "A little, but, I couldn't hardly make out a letter on that page!"

He sighed and placed a hand on Gilli's shoulder, "It's alright, we'll work something out with George that he can take care of that stuff and hopefully get you some lessons. Gaius would probably be willing to teach you in the evenings. Come on, I'll show you where the Queen is and then you can head to the stables. Tyr is Arthur's personal groom and he'll be happy to get you started down there."

After a quick tour and an actual introduction to the queen, unlike the night before, Merlin and Gilli parted ways. The warlock first went to find Sir Cai, only to be told he and his squire had left early that morning on a patrol ordered by the queen. It took a load off his mind that at least outside of the city, surrounded by knights the boy was as safe as he could be. Since Arthur insisted on his company for the hunting trip, it would be difficult to find out the names of the others that didn't return from Snowdonia, he hoped that could wait until later. However with the feast planned for that evening, it was promising to be another very long night with no possible leads.

He made his way back to the King's solar in hopes of being able to talk sense into Arthur. Gilli was helping the king into his leather hunting armor when he entered.

"Ah Merlin, good you're here. Guinevere has already taken it upon herself to…"he paused and smirked, " _Head_  up, the search for Bran in the castle and lower town, so you don't have any excuse not to accompany me today."

Gwen rolled her eyes and covered a chuckle with her hand, "Really, my love? Aren't those jokes getting old for you yet?"

The king winked at his wife, "Never. Also, we have decided that since there was a breech in the castle security, to postpone the feast. Although she and your mother will also be preparing to leave by tomorrow so they can reach the wedding in time."

"Alright," Merlin agreed apprehensively. "I'll meet you in the courtyard then."

"Where are you going?"

"To get my daughter, I might as well bring her along for the fresh air," He turned and walked away leaving a slightly unhappy king behind him. At this point he didn't really care what his cousin thought.

* * *

 

Aithusa gasped and smiled brightly when she spied Merlin walking towards her and Hunith out in the queen's private garden. She went running towards him and he scooped her up in his arms at the same time amazed at the warmth that spread through him and guilty that he couldn't seem to find the time to spend with her that he wanted.

"I've missed you father!" She said, her small arms wrapped around his neck tightly.

"Me too, I'm sorry I've been so busy," He grinned over her shoulder at his mother. "Did your nana talk to you about Prince Bran?"

Her lips disappeared into her mouth and she nodded sadly, "Can I help you find him today, please?"

He shifted her on his hip, "Queen Guinevere is searching in the castle and the king has ordered that I accompany him hunting for his birthday." His heart ached as he felt her depression through the connection he shared with her. He quickly added, "And you are coming with us!"

An unseen force of brightness erupted from her as she squealed with glee.

Merlin reached his hand down, while holding her on his hip with the other and tickled the pale little toes, "But I wish you would put shoes on."

He received a very malicious scowl in response.

* * *

 

Merlin expected he would be the last to arrive in the courtyard with his daughter. He took note of the guards already mounted and prepared to follow them. Gone were the days when the two men could just ride out without security for a day in the forest. He noticed another horse aside from his own bay mare also standing and waiting for its rider. He wondered if it was meant for Aithusa and was about to question it when the little girl squealed and broke out of her father's arms.

"Uncle Gwaine!"

The rogue man picked her up and spun her around in circles causing her to giggle profusely. "When did you get back?" Merlin questioned.

"Last night, Percival was a bit anxious to get in and find a date for the feast, which I was just informed, has been canceled. I tried to find you."

"Sorry, I was helping the king secure the wine, so you wouldn't drink it all," Merlin stated. Arthur rolled his eyes while Gwaine laughed loudly.

"Are you ladies done gossiping so we can get moving?" The king asked impatiently.

"Sire," Gilli said coming up with a horse assigned to him from the royal stables, "I was speaking with a few blokes and found out there is an active game trail about two leagues to the south west of here."

Arthur smiled, impressed with the young man's initiative, "Thank you, Gilli. Merlin, why could you never think of asking for that sort of information before we went hunting?"

The warlock rolled his eyes as he watched the king and his men begin to head out of the castle. Aithusa had already clamored up onto Gwaine's horse, insisting on riding with her favorite uncle, at least for a while. Merlin went to mount and Gilli stopped him.

"It took the last of my coin and a bit of magical persuasion while Tyr was getting the horses ready for me, but I managed to find out about a cart that left the city heading in that direction yesterday not a few hours after I saw the basket. The man driving it was rather suspicious."

Blue eyes evaluated his friend for a moment before he grinned, "Good work, Gilli." First day on the job and the young wizard was already turning out to be a great asset. As they got on their horses Merlin could feel someone watching him and glanced around. Up in a window he could see George's ever pleasant, yet completely unreadable smile. He didn't think that it was the mousy servant making his senses tingle, but the warlock couldn't see anyone else watching them all leave with as much interest.


	37. Head Hunting

George sighed contentedly, finally feeling a sense of relief after months of tension. Although having only just met the young man Merlin brought to him, he felt that perhaps his luck had turned. It would take a while to train Gilli properly, especially when it came to some of the finer aspects, but working together, the mousy man was confident everything would smooth out. Even Uther had maintained two or three personal servants at most times, although the former king could be almost more volatile than his son, and his punishments more extreme. If Gilli could at least keep the king happy out hunting and with the more menial tasks like in the stables. Yes, he thought to himself with satisfaction, the king would benefit from two servants.

Smiling giddily at his revelation he turned on his heel, hands clasped behind his back, and began his walk back to the king's chambers to clean up the mess most likely left from the departing king.

As he walked away he nodded to a comely little maid cleaning the windows nearby. Emma he thought her name was. She smiled shyly in return. Maybe if Gilli worked out George might find himself with a bit of free time, perhaps even enough to consider a life outside of his servitude. The girl had already been flirting with him when they would pass in the kitchens or elsewhere in the palace, but before the manservant had brushed off her advances as he was very busy with caring for the king. Yes, it was definitely time for him to begin thinking beyond the king and towards his own life.

He failed to notice, as he strode away that the coyness turned cold as Emma, a servant of Lord Edmund's family since she was ten years old, moved back to her current chore of wiping the glass panes.

* * *

 

Merlin felt something peg the back of his head, thinking it was a bug he tried brushing it away. Then it happened again. Once more he ran his hand over his head finding something sticking in it; he pulled it out to look. Wet blackish gray pieces of small splintered like wood were in his hand and he studied them curiously before it happened again. He turned around on his horse causing Aithusa to gasp.

Her soft blue eyes widened in shock as she watched him carefully from her place on the front of Gwaine's horse. The rogue prince sat behind her grinning impishly. His closed mouth moved around and he soon spat out something on the ground.

"What are you doing?" The warlock questioned. Since leaving the castle the two 'children' had been trying to cause trouble.

"Teaching her how to eat sunflower seeds and spit out the shells," He tossed back his head and let another handful fall into his mouth before offering some more to the girl. "She's got a hell of range with it."

"You are showing her how to spit?"

"The shells! Sheesh, Merlin, you need to loosen up a bit!"

"Yeah, father, loosen up!" The girl mimicked.

"Yes, Merlin, you heard them," Arthur offered cheekily.

Merlin shook his head and turned back to the path. The king continued snickering softly until he too felt the spent seed pods land on the back of his skull. He spun around, his face pinched to see his knight pointing at the girl, and Aithusa pointing accusingly at Gwaine. Gilli was biting the insides of his cheeks as he rode behind them all, Merlin failed to express how entertaining this job was.

Gwaine prepared to turn more of the shells into projectiles when something caught his eye. Gilli watched as the flamboyant knight kicked his feet out of the stirrups and slid off the tail end of his moving horse. Spitting aside the seeds, he moved cautiously watching the ground with narrowed eyes. The king and Merlin continued on without noticing, while Gwaine's well-trained horse halted on its own after the main rider dismounted.

Gwaine crouched down studying the ground, his fingers brushing against the dirt. He let out a short sharp whistle, getting the attention of the king.

Arthur turned back ready to berate the knight for something when he noticed Gwaine's stance, "What is it?" He asked in seriousness as came off his own horse, with a fluid motion he was taking his sword from the saddle and sheathing it in his belt.

"Wheel tracks," Gwaine's tongue was sticking out slightly as he looked up and down the trail, "barely narrow enough to fit through here."

"Someone would have to be daft to try and take any type of cart through here," Merlin said joining them. He glanced up at Gilli and nodded slightly. It appeared the boy's information might be paying off.

"Ew," Aithusa crinkled her nose while still sitting on Gwaine's horse, "I smell dead human."

Gilli blinked, it took a moment for his mind to register what she said. He looked up at the girl, he hadn't been around many children in his life, but it seemed extremely odd to hear a nearly five year old girl refer to the rancid odor that now he could smell in such a way. He stepped off his own horse, watching her curiously out of the corner of his eye while he moved to join the other three men.

The king glanced back at her as well, but with a completely different look than what Gilli expected, it appeared almost appreciative of her senses more than anything else. "Spread out, see if we can discover the source," He then noticed the slight grin on his cousin's face and slapped Merlin across the back of the head. "I thought we were going hunting today?"

It was Aithusa who spoke up before anyone else could, "Duh, father's got to find Prince Bran, so we're head hunting." She made a tsking sound while shaking her head, "Silly king."


	38. Turn Things Over

"Can I carry that for you?"

The voice startled her and Clarissant twirled around, nearly spilling the contents of her basket.

"I didn't mean to sneak up on you, I'm sorry," Percival said abashedly.

The brunette woman smiled up at him and stammered in embarrassment, "No, I shouldn't be so easily frightened anymore, forgive me."

He reached out and took the woven hamper from her. "Don't," he warned gently, "don't apologize." Percival held out his arm allowing her to make the choice to take it if she wished. He grinned proudly when she did.

"Was your journey a success?" She asked as they walked along through the town.

"It was and Queen Annis has her grandson now with her in Caerleon. He's a bright boy, but full of anger," he said sadly remembering how easy going the Lancelot used to be. "Can I escort you back to the castle?"

"No, actually, the queen has given me permission to stay in her old residence. There are too many people in the palace and I felt a bit claustrophobic."

He walked with her back to the small house close to the forges where Guinevere's father used to work his magic on metal. The blacksmith had died a few years before Percival joined the ranks of the knights in Camelot, but he still heard others speak of the skill Tom used to possess. Also he recalled how Elyan spoke of his father and his craft with such pride, it made the large knight sad that he would never meet the man. They arrived at the door and she released his arm, taking back her basket.

She looked up at the knight's face. It seemed so young to her, more so than just the four years that made her his senior. His strong jaw line was covered in a light scruff and his blue eyes shone with a deep kindness as he returned her gaze.

"I  _was_  going to ask if you wanted to accompany to the feast tonight," he stated softly ducking his head and seeming a bit guilty.

Clarissant felt her heart drop and wondered if she had done something wrong if he 'was' going to ask, but not anymore. She managed a soft, "Oh," that could not disguise her disappointment as her brain over-analyzed the situation.

Percival was perceptive ton her tone. "It was canceled," he said quickly, "due to the situation with Bran and all."

Brown eyes rose sharply in question. It had been a few days since Clarissant was last in the castle. Although she missed his company, due to the king's orders Bran was under the constant supervision of a servant. George was polite to her, but she could tell he preferred his duties over the sitting around while she and Bran conversed. Logically she knew the man didn't mean any harm, but he seemed impatient and bored while they visited and it made her feel like she was in the wrong to wish for a dialogue. "What happened?"

The large man blinked a couple of times, "You didn't hear?" She shook her head 'no'. Percival glanced around and motioned that they should go inside the house. "He went missing from the palace yesterday."

Clarissant gasped in horror, "No I didn't hear. Oh…" her hands wrung fretfully.

"Myself and others are searching for him through the town. But there has been no sign of him, and what few leads we have, have all fallen short. The queen convinced Arthur to postpone the feast, since it seems there is some deeper plot in the mix and it wouldn't be safe right now. They are trying to keep the head-napping low-key so it won't incite emotions."

The woman nodded. She had overheard snippets of conversation from others in the castle before she moved out. Many were wary of the recent, and seemingly sudden, acceptance of magic in Camelot and the enchanted head was right at the middle of the controversy. "What are they telling the others? So no one gets suspicious?"

"The Queen and Lady Hunith are riding out early to go to a wedding tomorrow and the king decided he wanted to go hunting before they left. People are used to him pushing aside things for his past-time, so no one is overly concerned with the change of plans," he explained.

"Let me know if I can assist in any way, Sir Percival," she offered. Then feeling a bit forward she added nervously, "Since there is no feast, if your duties permit, perhaps we can have supper together?"

A boyish grin lit up his face, "I would be honored to accept."

(*~*~*~*)

Arthur's mouth hung open and he blinked a couple of times, trying to find a response. Finally snapping it shut he slung an arm over Merlin's shoulder and turned away from the girl, "Born, hatched, or what-not, she is certainly your daughter and is going to find herself in trouble if she keeps that up. If I was sure she wouldn't turn on me, I'd have made plans to throw her in the stocks for such a stunt, and perhaps a night in the dungeons for her disrespect." He shot his cousin a warning glare. To the king Merlin's magic was one thing he could accept. Bran's enchanted head was tolerable since the man was his ancestor and a warrior who had no choice in his circumstances, although deep down Arthur was still slightly hesitant about it. One of only a few redeeming qualities the king could find with the girl was her ability to annoy Merlin. He recalled seeing the skeletal like creature next to Morgana on the battlefield, then appearing completely different when she aided them in the Perilous Lands, but still very much a dragon. After that he was wary of her in this girl form. H kept his feelings hidden, and for the most part simply ignored her as she flitted around the castle causing trouble simply by her unusual and obviously magical presence.

Merlin pursed his lips, his black eyebrows raised in apprehension, "Oh course, Sire. I'll speak with her about it." It appeared Arthur was only one of very few people who remembered the girl was a magical beast in an innocent looking package. Gwen and Geoffrey spoke of her like an intelligent young lady in training. Hunith had lavished her with affection and quiet discipline as a mother figure would. Gwaine saw her as a cohort for pranks, a little girl he could corrupt with his ornery nature.

Merlin understood more than anyone, except Morgana, what pain the young dragon had suffered in the early years of her life and although it was tiring, he wanted to allow her the experience of being a carefree child. He was trying to be patient with her, but was beginning to wonder if he was giving Aithusa too much slack. He resolved that once the disembodied head was found he would need to summon Kilgharrah for help in educating a dragon child.

The two guards following them moved closer, but as yet stayed on their horses seeing no immediate threat to the king. Gwaine was grinning proudly at the child as he walked around looking over the area. His nose visibly twitched with the smell of decomposition nearby, and he finally came upon the source. Gilli moved towards the knight, fascinated at the jokester's keen perception while appearing to be too preoccupied with having fun. He followed the man's line of sight down a small depression hidden in the tall grasses.

Half covered by a tattered old blanket was the body of a boy. "Ah hell," Gilli grumbled as the others moved towards him.

"Is that him?" Merlin asked, ignoring the looks from Arthur and Gwaine. At the boy's affirmative nod Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, "Well, we're on the right track then at least." He studied the path they were following and it dawned on him that he had been this way before a few times. The warlock groaned inwardly and hoped they wouldn't have to journey too much farther past the hills before them to find the head.

The king then stopped and crossed his arms in front of him. He looked his cousin over, "When were you going to tell me this was your plan?"

"Look if I had mentioned it before, you would have been angry that I was trying to tell you what to do, and we might have missed this. I figured this way if we didn't find anything you could still hunt and be happy," He offered the king one of his 'yes I'm an idiot, but you love me anyway' grins.

Arthur inhaled through his nose, his jaw clamped tightly. In a carefully measured voice he said, "This is going to have to stop, Merlin."

The smirk faded from his face. He cocked his head to the side and stared at Arthur, "Fine then, you convince everyone who is plotting against you and Camelot to stop and then I will. In one minute you ask me to keep you in the dark about the shady behind the scenes dealings I find out and now you're telling me you want to know. We've been going at this for too long now! Either you let me have my secrets and do what I do best which is keeping your imperious arse intact, or I tell you everything so I no longer have to make the decisions, in which case I'd probably end up even crankier than I feel today because my hands would be tied from doing anything."

"Gwaine, figure out where these tracks are going," the blond monarch said, turning away from his cousin. "Take Gilli and the girl with you."

The knight gave a curt nod and moved off, comprehending that this was something the two men needed to work through alone. He motioned to the guards to leave the King and Merlin as well, thankfully they obeyed the knight without question.

Once the others were away the king turned back to Merlin, "You know you're not the only one still trying to come to terms with all this?"

"Yeah," Merlin said nodding his head. "I know," his said unconvincingly. Although in the back of his mind it hadn't clicked until that point really how topsy turvey the king's world must have become with all the changes. He knew Arthur was under the strain from the wound and the council but Merlin just pushed off the king's mood as being due to the time of year and he focused on the outside factors, not really considering how the past year must have taken its toll on the king's mind.

"Good, then let me know when you figure out how we are supposed to manage," Arthur walked past Merlin who stood gawking in his realizations. Everything he had been raised to believe about magic was thrown out the window. All his father's teachings about the inherent evils that sorcery was were gone. Since the day Arthur was born it had been brow beaten into the very fabric of the king's life. Those lessons now lay torn in shreds along with the laws Uther had so desperately upheld to the point of tyranny. A warlock and servant born of a bastard noble now stood as the heir to the coveted throne of Camelot. Arthur knew with utmost certainty that Uther was rolling over in his grave.

Merlin snapped back to himself as the king was getting on his horse and grinned audaciously, "So do you  _really_  want me to tell you, or are you just telling me to tell you because you aren't sure if you want to know?"

The singular look Arthur gave him said it all.

* * *

 

Down river from where Bran was initially thrown, an old man pushed the tail of his brown cloak aside and crouched down next to the basket, "My old friend, you are a bit upside down, are you not?"

"Oh you know Taliesin, after centuries in the tower, I decided to get out and turn things over in my mind for a while."

The ancient bard chuckled as he pulled the soaked cranium out of the basket.


	39. Last Message of the Red Dragon

"Well, this is it. No sign of the basket you described, Gilli," Merlin stated in a downtrodden voice, "Or of Bran."

Just over the crest of a hill near the head of a river they found the remains of the cart and its driver. "I think that was one of Lord Fernin's boys. I remember he tried to become a knight a couple times, but just didn't possess the temperament or skill for it," The king stated, a note of regret touching his voice.

"You mean he wasn't arrogant, hot-headed, or able to break a wooden shield with his brute strength while insulting the servants?"

"No, Merlin, I mean he was too busy trying to be my best friend instead of paying attention to any orders or instruction and was rather clumsy with a sword, quite unlike his younger brother. Although, rather like you in that aspect," The king smirked pointedly.

"Let me guess, his brother was among those that didn't come back from Snowdonia."

"Mm."

"How many were there?"

"Twelve knights total. Including Leon and Elyan."

"Well on the bright side, I don't see Gwen running off with this bunch."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"So which way now gents?" Gwaine asked. "Try and find the bandits?" He and Gilli had already been scouring the area, but the rocky terrain was making tracking very difficult.

"Without any resistance here, I'd take the horse and check the basket to make certain it was worth carrying – if I was a bandit," Gilli offered with a shrug. In his travels he had experience with plenty of ruffians along the way, including a short stint with a group. "Then of course I'd lose it if a head looked at me out of the thing and probably run away sharply."

Arthur chuckled, "He's got a point." The king called to the guards following them and quietly gave them orders to take the cart, load up the bodies, and head back for Camelot. Reluctant at first, after some assurances from Gwaine and Merlin they finally did as the king bade.

"Father, can I have that cloak?" Aithusa asked innocently. She was standing with one foot, balancing on an algae covered stone in the middle of the river.

Merlin smiled and moved to his horse where his cloak was tied neatly behind the saddle. He would have rather worn his old brown jacket, but Arthur was insistent that he at least carry the cloak with him. "You know you wouldn't be cold if you put shoes on, or stopped standing in the middle of the river," He admonished.

Blue eyes blinked at him and looked at the red fabric, "No, not that one. The one in the river," She pointed downstream. "I think it was Prince Bran's, but I don't know how he could have worn it."

His eyes followed her outstretched hand. Just before a bend in the river, caught on some rocks near the edge was a soaking wet cloak that nearly blended in with its surroundings. Mentally Merlin went through maps in his head, along with his personal knowledge from years of following Arthur through this area. He groaned out loud realizing his initial worry when they found the first body was correct. They were heading straight for the Valley of Fallen Kings.

* * *

They worked their way slowly down the trail sometimes dismounting to lead the horses through particularly dense patch of undergrowth. Merlin closed his eyes and bit his tongue as the overgrown statues came into view. He was about to say something when the king beat him to the punch.

"I swear Merlin, if you utter one syllable about having a bad feeling, I shall have you flogged when we return to Camelot."

The warlock raised his eyebrows at the threat, knowing it was an empty one. He chuckled out loud when Aithusa, who was now finally riding with him, asked innocently, "What's flogged mean?"

"It means he's going to have someone take a whip and …"

"Gilli," The king interrupted in a warning tone, smiling coolly through his teeth, "Shut up."

Merlin pursed his lips, attempting not to laugh. It was amusing to no longer be the only one on the receiving end of Arthur's admonitions. Although if he hadn't spoken up, Merlin would have; he didn't need Aithusa thinking her father's well-being was in danger. Following the river they finally came upon the area Merlin had been dreading. He could feel the magic permeating the land and noticed the place where at one time he nearly thought he failed his destiny. He felt the girl become jittery as they neared and a glance at Gilli told Merlin that even the boy was feeling something from the place. Although he probably didn't even realize he was sensing anything.

Gwaine held up his hand for the group to stop silently as they came to a turn in the ravine. Sound of light hearted laughter floated towards them. Drawing his sword the knight crept along until he could see around the corner. He was greeted with the sight of a white haired man with a short beard dressed in forest browns sitting across a fire from the head they sought. The two men conversing like old friends.

* * *

 

They were boring. She was bored. She wanted to go exploring, but her father told her not to. It wasn't safe. Rolling her eyes she dipped her toes in the river fascinated with the way it would glimmer in the tiny shafts of sunlight that fought its way down through the trees and made the water look like it was alive with tiny jewels. Everything here was more alive. Her eyes wandered towards the cave in the distance. It called to her strongly, but her father had already warned her repeatedly to stay put.

Aithusa sighed. She was a dragon, a creature of magic, an ancient race older than the old religion. That is what the red dragon had told her in her dream on the night she died.

She dreamed she was on an island in a castle that had been torn apart by the ages. It was the home of her people, the same place far outside of the time of humans, lost through magic due to a shift in consciousness. This was the same place the red dragon had brought her to heal, although if she was ever actually here or just dreaming of it, Aithusa didn't know. Nor did she every think to question the wisdom of the ancient one.

Then she was overjoyed to return, healthier than she had been since the day she was called forth from the egg by her father. Morgana was better too although Aithusa could feel the sadness at being left mostly alone. She felt if she could help her father then he would be able to return sooner and make the former priestess feel less lonely.

She was with Grettir when the feeling of sadness came upon her like a rogue wave washing over entire heart and carrying it far out to see, adrift on the tides. She cried herself to sleep, though she didn't know why she cried. Then suddenly the red dragon was in front of her, not in her usual human appearance, but in that of the great crimson creature as she wrapped herself around the ruins.

_"Child, my time of walking the world has come to an end at last. Do not weep for me as I am free of my burden. You are the shining star of our people. In your heart I pass the gift that was bestowed upon me long ago, during the infantile ages of man after the first dragon lord was born to command us and seek our wisdom when names held power. The ability to be an ambassador of our kind in a way that man need not fear us. I had hoped to allow you time to grow into your wings before this came to pass, but that is not to be. I will be within you always child."_

_Aithusa felt her body begin to shift in the dream world and the sacred knowledge flowed into her soul. The red dragon flooded her mind with all her own memories, most of which became locked away in the child's subconscious as she did not yet possess the maturity to handle the tumultuous flow and ability to distinguish reality from prophecy nor comprehend how differently time passed for a dragon when watching the world._

It frustrated her. The little white dragon knew the information was there and each time she glanced towards the cave it was as if the secrets hidden away were calling to her. She sighed and watched as a leaf floated by, carried down the river. The men were boring as they had been discussing the events that brought Bran back to his old friend.

The old man was like Grettir, locked to a space by the magic of the world. But he spoke in a way that confused her. He smiled kindly towards her and winked. That was as good as giving her permission, she thought. Merlin's back was turned to her, and other than Taliesin not a one of them was paying her any mind. She consoled herself by thinking she wouldn't go all the way in, just a quick glance. That's all. Nothing more than that. It wouldn't hurt anything to just take a peek.

Her tiny feet carried her silently towards the gaping entrance and she felt a shiver run through her, but was determined to see what secret her father was keeping from her in the dark chasm.

* * *

 

The scream cut through his heart like a sword into exposed flesh. He was up and running in a nearly blind panic for Aithusa's safety, his own fears of seeing the crystals again forgotten as he raced towards the cave. The only thought in his mind- to save his girl. Gwaine and Arthur were hot on his heels.


	40. Dialogue of Myrddin and Taliesin

He flinched at the entrance throwing up his arm in hopes of shielding his eyes from the assault of images that the crystals presented. He was able to make out Aithusa among the facets of the cavern. Each cluster of crystalline lattice screaming into his mind, enticing him to look. He screwed his eyes shut hoping that it would help against the pounding headache that had formed in his fight against the visions. His resistance was breaking and Merlin had yet to reach the dragon girl as she stood frozen, her eyes wide in fear at whatever the crystal decided to show her.

Just as he was upon her, his eyes unwilling shifted towards the flat glassy surface of the same one that had entranced her and he felt himself lost in the vision.

_The rivers ran full and heavy with the headwaters as the spring brought the thaw of ice from the mountains above. Flowering trees stood strong against the spring winds that blew in from the south. Fields of grass and wild flowers in every imaginable color swayed in the breezes. Morgana stood glowering down from the wall of the keep, her magic felt dark as it raced along her fingertips crying for release, an army stood below her ready to take Dinas Emyrs by force._

_In a dark cave men of Camelot fought against an unseen enemy in a brutal battle for a cauldron. Moans of the wounded were surrounding them. In the middle of the fray stood the king blanketed with blood. Merlin couldn't tell if it was Arthur's or if it belonged to the large cat-like beast that crouched before him, the body of a boy, the king's son, lay nearby. Alive or dead, he wasn't able to discern. And another he knew well, body broken along a wall._

_Then he saw himself in a hollow void forced to make a choice. He could save the king or Morgana…_

He was broken from the image by strong hands that yanked him away from the impeding images and back out into the light of the forest. He came to his senses with a shuddering gasp and immediately looked around for Aithusa. Arthur steadied his cousin, concern etching every line on his face. Merlin finally brushed him off, the vision he saw was manageable compared to his previous experience, however it could have simply been the added years of experience that allowed him to cope.

Gwaine was holding Aithusa, wrapped tightly in his cloak. Silent tears streaming down her face, but otherwise the young dragon girl was completely unresponsive. Merlin stumbled towards her. He took his face in her hands, shoving aside his own tumultuous thoughts. He was able to discern the season in the images he was shown and knew he had a few months before the prophecy would come to bear. The emotions welled up inside him and he shook his head. His own eyes wet with unshed tears as he crouched before the girl both from fear of hearing her scream and from what he saw.

"Aithusa," He said softly and received no sign of recognition. In a voice deep and husky filled with a primal magic he called again to her, " _Aithusa._ " Outwardly, nothing changed, but he could feel her soul link to his like a life-line out of a deep lightless cavern. He smiled lightly and breathed a little easier. " _Éla píso na mou paidí. Aithusa, ela píso na mou_ ," his voice was soft and loving while he stroked her face. Finally her eyes blinked and her breath was just a bit deeper. Merlin leaned forward and kissed the top of her head gently. His worry that he had somehow lost her to the pull of the crystals eased.

It was Bran who spoke first, asking the question on all their minds, "Will she be alright?"

No one answered him and he wasn't able to see her surrounded by the others. Only Taliesin didn't appear worried as he continued to sit on the log across from Bran during the entire ordeal with only a look of curiosity, but not concern on his face. He supposed the old bard had seen too much in his life with his own prophecies and visions. Perhaps he had known this outcome for years before they ever arrived at this cave; however Bran understood from his past experience that Taliesin wouldn't share his observations unless he wanted to and when he did, it was usually in riddles and poetry.

Arthur stood rooted to the spot where Merlin had shoved him off in his haste to get to the girl. He brought a fist up to his face and made a coughing sound, clearing his throat in an attempt to garner Merlin's attention.

Keeping his features gentle, the warlock turned his eyes, up towards his cousin. The king nodded his head off to the side, a silent order for Merlin to follow him. He was about to argue when Gwaine spoke softly, still cradling the small pale girl in his arms, "Go, I've got her for now."

Merlin sighed and stood up reluctantly. He could feel his body trembling and knew stepping away for a moment, now that she was safe, might give him a chance to recover his senses.

"Hey, Gilli, any of that broth ready?" Gwaine asked. Merlin had almost forgotten about the young man who had been preparing a meal while they were speaking with Bran and Taliesin before Aithusa nearly gave him a heart attack. Gilli nodded, remaining quiet. He brought Gwaine a small cup as the rogue knight began to sing softly and rock the child in his arms. "And who are you, me pretty fair maid, and who are you, me honey?..."

Merlin followed his cousin out past the hearing range of the others, "He's going to be a great father someday."

Arthur scoffed, "If he ever finds a woman for more than a night or two." He turned to Merlin in all seriousness, "What happened back there?"

Merlin could count on one hand the number of times over the years he visibly cried when the king was conscious. He swallowed hard against the tears threatening from relief and overwhelming emotions. Now that Aithusa was safe, if not coherent, his mind went racing back to his own vision. He sank down on the ground and attempted to wipe the exhaustion from his face, "Do you remember the Crystal of Neahtid?"

The king's eyebrow raised a fraction and so Merlin plowed forward. "This is where it came from."

"It was just a rock, Merlin," Arthur didn't know whether he said that as a statement or a question.

The warlock laughed sardonically at that, "And back there is a whole cave just like it. Did you never wonder why your father had something like that locked in his vault?"

Arthur stood with his arms crossed and an exasperated look on his face. Of course he hadn't, it wasn't in his nature to question something like that. The vaults were filled with many treasures collected over the years.

"Magic, Arthur. In the hands of well, someone like me, it…" He paused and bit back the flood of emotions. The images from earlier were still playing through his mind. "It allows me glimpses of …"

"What? The future?" Arthur snorted, but his face fell as Merlin simply nodded. "So what did you see in there?"

Merlin shrugged, refusing to answer or make eye contact.

"Oh don't be such a girl about it. What could you have possibly seen that would set you off like this?"

Merlin twisted his hands in his lap. His voice was barely a whisper when he finally spoke, "A choice I've got to make."

Something in his cousin's tone actually sent a shiver coursing through the king's body. "Tell me," He shrugged, his face relaxed as he kept his own personal thoughts in check, "maybe I can help."

The warlock shook his head, "I know you want me to explain, but please Arthur, let me have this to myself for now. Let me have this secret," he pleaded.

Arthur studied the younger man for a few moments. His stance softened as he yielded to Merlin's request, "So what about the girl? Did she see the same thing you did?"

"Probably not, as Taliesin told me last time I was here, the crystals give visions unique to the person who sees them. I can't begin to fathom what a dragon child who is destined to live for thousands of years might have seen." He shook himself of the thought, "When we head back tomorrow, I'm going to take a bit of a detour and see if I can do something to help her. Between Bran and Gilli, you should have enough information to ferret out the ones plotting against you right now."

Arthur walked past Merlin and placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. He nodded his agreement, "Just don't be gone too long." Then he headed back to the camp leaving Merlin alone with his thoughts.

* * *

 

It wasn't long after Arthur returned to the camp, that Merlin had pulled himself together enough to make his way back. He was still trembling slightly from the anxiety and guilt. He made his way over to Gwaine, who was still holding Aithusa, although she had lapsed into a very restless sleep. Holding out his arms, the knight handed the girl over without question. She stirred slightly but soon snuggled in tightly, resting a hair easier.

Gilli glanced around; everyone was quiet, lost in their own thoughts. He moved towards Merlin's gear and pulled out the cloak, carefully draping it over his friend's shoulders. Merlin smiled his thanks, briefly amazed at how easily the young man was falling into his new role. After sitting himself back down, he finally breached the silence echoing the same question Bran had asked earlier, "Is she gonna be ok?"

Merlin shrugged, he honestly didn't know. He looked at the old bard, "Do you know?"

The man smiled meaningfully, "I do not. But you would be wise to not discount the threat the other dragon poses, for he will come armed and ready, though already wounded."

Merlin stared at the man blankly, "Kilgharrah wouldn't…"

Taliesin's chuckled interrupted him, "I did not say it was a real dragon now did I? You should learn to quit being so presumptuous or you may never see what is in front of you."

With that said the old man stood up he looked over at Bran, "It was good to see you again my dear friend, and never fear-  _it_  is where we left it."

He walked away out of the firelight before any of the others realized what happened and was gone.

"What the HELL was that about?" Arthur practically yelled. His blue eyes widened with suspicion.

Bran rolled his eyes, since he could do little else, "The same thing that happened to me two hundred and twenty odd years ago."

Merlin was caught in his own thoughts. He stood abruptly and turned to the nearest person, which happened to be Arthur. "Here, I'll be back," he thrust the sleeping girl into the king's arms and strode off towards the cave. This time entering it fearlessly and with a sense of purpose, he was downright sick of the half-answers that were being handed to him and filled with a sudden determination to 'see' as Taliesin suggested.

"Well don't just stand there like idiots, go after him!" The king yelled at Gwaine and Gilli, completely unsure of what to do with the cloaked form he was holding. Both men attempted to follow. Merlin threw his hand up without looking back and the two found themselves blocked by an invisible barrier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dialogue of Myrddin and Taliesin - The Black Book of Carmarthen I
> 
> Taliesin:
> 
> Swifly came Maelgwn's men,  
> Warriors ready for battle, for slaughter armed.  
> For this battle, Arderydd*, they have made  
> A lifetime of preparation.
> 
> Myrddin:
> 
> A host of spears fly high, drawing blood.  
> From a host of vigorous warriors-  
> A host, fleeing; a host, wounded-  
> A host, bloody, retreating.
> 
> …
> 
> Myrddin:  
> Seven score heroes, maddened by battle,  
> To the forest of Celyddon*1 they fled.  
> Since I Myrddin, am second only to Taliesin,  
> Let my words be heard as truth.
> 
> *Arderydd was one of three major battles of Arthur. Including Camlann and Battle of the Trees
> 
> *1 Celyddon is also known as Caledonia is an ancient forest in Scotland.
> 
> Translation copied from maryjones. us
> 
> Gwaine's song was called either "As I roved" (Loreena McKennitt version) or "Who Are You" (Omnia version)
> 
> Dragon language: Come back to me child. Aithusa, come back to me. (it's the google translation so probably so far beyond grammatically correct it's not funny. And yes, I found out after I wrote this story that the dragon language is actually Old High German, but this is fanfiction - so, bear with the fact that I'm not going to worry about changing it at this point.)


	41. Sons and Socks

The large man grinned as he shoveled another morsel into his mouth, "This is great!"

Clarissant blushed and ducked her head at the compliment, "It was one of the few things I would make that Guirom said was 'tolerable'."

"Well, I've already come to the conclusion that except for marrying you, the man was an idiot who wouldn't know his head from his…" he paused, trying to keep his language civil.

"His ass? You can say it, hell I've said worse," She brushed her long brown locks out of her face in a sort of flipping motion.

Percival almost choked on his food. The resemblance between her and Gwaine was uncanny, he thought to himself. "You and your brother, no one would dare accuse you two of NOT being related."

"I'm nothing like him," she protested through her amusement. Although she had begun to realize since their reuniting that perhaps most of their difficulties in getting along when they were younger stemmed from this very fact. "Why does he find you attractive as well?" Her hand flew to her mouth and she blushed profusely her eyes wide and anxious. The large man made her feel more comfortable than she could ever recall and for her to say such a thing was completely out of character. If she had even whispered anything to that effect around her late husband, the man would have beaten her senseless. She was shocked with her own internal thoughts as she realized she didn't fear any retaliation from the man across from her.

His cheeks were red from her compliment and he tried to recover by making a witty comment, "I'm not sure, but that could explain why he keeps trying to get me drunk."

She squealed with girlish laughter and he joined in her mirth. They understood that depending on his level of intoxication, Gwaine would either roll his eyes or play into the joke, as usual making everyone nearby question his sanity. A knock at the door brought their mood back down to a manageable level. Clarissant rose to answer it. One of the guard stood outside, "Pardon, M'Lady, is Sir Percival here?"

She stepped back from the door as Percival came forward, "What is it?"

"Forgive my intrusion, sir. The patrol sent out this morning has just returned," The guard looked about nervously, "There was an altercation between two of the knights, and a squire has been injured."

Percival said to the man, "Thanks, I'll be along shortly." With a curt nod, the guard left to resume his duties. The blond man turned towards Clarissant as he gathered his cloak and sword, "Sorry, I need to go."

* * *

 

Percival decided his first stop would be to find the knight in charge of the patrol and discover what had transpired. He luckily found the man, Sir Hector in the room just off the armory waiting for him. "Hector, what happened?"

Hector was one of the few knights who had been around since before Arthur received his knighthood, during the days of Uther's reign. He had been offered the position Percival now held, but turned it down. Nowadays the man rarely went on patrols, staying behind more often than not to train the younger generation as he felt retirement creeping into his aging bones. Only occasionally, at the behest of the king and queen, would he ride out. He gave a tired sound and gathered his white hair that hung past his shoulders, behind his neck with both hands. "There was an accident while we were fighting some bandits. Brom accidently caught Cai's squire with his blade. Cai got it in his head that it was done on purpose and Brom was intent on killing the boy."

Something didn't seem to fit as Percival listened, "Why was the boy in the middle of the fray? He's been a squire for a while to his uncles, he should know better."

"Aye one would think. Look I trained all these boys over the years."

"Brom was just newly made a knight; I'm not that familiar with him."

"Following the footsteps of his father, who was a comrade of mine, and his brothers."

"Who were his brothers?"

"Quin was a good man. He fell outside the city when Cenrid's men came in lead by that witch. The ones that couldn't die. And Oliver,"

"I knew Oliver, he was a fierce warrior." Percival nodded his comprehension. After retaking the city from Morgause, Oliver was among those who joined the ranks of the elite group. Sadly he was among those lost recently.

"Brom's got his issues, he's young and green, but there's no reason to suspect he'd go after some squire. Heat of battle, I suspect the boy got caught up and just thought he'd be a hero or something and got in the way."

"Hmm," Percival nodded. What the veteran knight described made sense. "And what does Sir Cai say about this?"

Hector sighed and shrugged, "Swears Brom wasn't in the middle of the fighting and lured the boy in. But I don't see why he'd have done that. It was just a scratch anyway and on a squire no less." The older man chuckled softly, "The only reason for Cai to have come off like that was if the boy was his son or something, but he hasn't said anything to that effect."

"Where are they now?" Percival was keeping his emotions in check and his face unreadable.

"The knights are taking the evening to cool off in the dungeon and the boy was sent to Gaius."

The large knight nodded. He had to wonder how Sir Leon would approach this situation as it was outside his personal realm of expertise. Being one of the few to know the truth about Loholt, he felt distinctly uneasy on how to cope with the issue. "The king should be back soon, I'll talk to them and see what they say, but I think it would be best left to Arthur."

The older man shifted in his seat. "Is there something more to this I should know?" As the commander of the forces the large knight needed to be the one to head this off, before something as simple as a hot-headed misunderstanding was taken to the king. He silently cursed the inexperienced young man sitting across from him. He was a natural at commanding the troops, but when it came to the finer points of management Percival had no experience, especially with his common upbringing.

Percival shook his head, and offered an innocent seeming smile, "Nothing that I know of." He could tell from the look on the other man's face that Hector wasn't buying it.

* * *

 

After numerous tries by Gilli and Gwaine the evening before to get through the barrier, the king was in a fluster. Although he would never admit to anyone, but when Merlin shoved the sleeping girl into his arms he felt true fear like he had never known coursed through him. He had never held a child before in his life. Gwaine tapped Gilli on the arm and the two men set about searching for a way past the barrier. The rogue knight glanced at the king, he almost suggested Gilli take Aithusa but seeing Arthur's discomfort he bit back a smirk and told Arthur that he would take Gilli and backtrack through the ravine to find another way. The king protested semi-incoherently as if terrified Aithusa would wake up and breath fire on him.

Once they were away Gilli turned to Gwaine, "The king would be much better than me out here. I could have taken the girl."

Gwaine chuckled and flicked his hair out of his face. Licking his lips he looked at the young man, "Naw, the princess needs to learn a lesson."

Bran's head was still on the rock where Taliesin had placed him after rescuing him from the basket. "I remember the first time I held my son, as if it was yesterday," He said wistfully.

"This is not my child," Arthur gulped visibly. He looked around for a place to set her down so he could join the others.

"No, but she is your cousin's child. So, she is family of sorts."

"She is a dragon." He bit out in a hissing voice as if afraid she would wake and take offense to it.

Bran closed his eyes and swallowed back his annoyance. "And, he is a dragon lord. From what I have gathered during my time with you all, he has put her needs aside for you for a number of years now, causing her great pain in the process. The least you can do is man up and get over yourself."

"I am the king, you can't talk to me like that," He protested weakly. Even in his head it sounded immature. It was something he would have said years ago before he took the throne.

Bran almost laughed, "What are you going to do to me? Have me beheaded for my insolence? I was to be king long before you were ever born. In fact if not for me and my son- you wouldn't even exist. Grow up, Arthur." He closed his eyes, pointedly ignoring the monarch as he feigned sleep.

The bundle in Arthur's arms began to stir. A soft whimper filled with fear and sadness escaped her. Arthur stiffened and looked down. Her blue eyes were open and looking up at him. In those eyes he could see her inner turmoil. The pain of her life and a darkness that he had seen before in men who had been imprisoned and tortured for years, or with warriors after a particularly vicious battle. He realized that beast or not, no one, especially one so young, should look like that. She blinked and he could see tears forming in her eyes.

He felt his shoulders loosen and a sinking feeling in his heart that he couldn't explain as if he could take on some of her pain. Arthur's eyes prickled with moisture and before he realized it, he had shifted her small form so he was cradling her more like a valued treasure than a cursed object. Guinevere would be in laughing herself into hysterics if she caught sight of it, he thought to himself, but he couldn't stop the corner of his mouth turning up slightly as Aithusa snuggled into him and fell back asleep.

* * *

 

Gilli stretched like a cat as he began to awake. He rolled out of his blanket into the cool morning air and noticed Merlin sitting quietly staring into the fire. Aithusa sat next to him, so close as if trying to attach herself to the man for fear he would disappear if she wasn't there. When he and Gwaine returned, reporting that they found no other entrance to the cave, Merlin had still not returned. Gwaine offered to take the girl and although mildly surprised, he wasn't shocked that the king declined. He turned around to Gilli and winked before finding a tree nearby and settling in.

He moved closer to the flames and began warming his hands. Merlin raised his eyes and smiled, looking older but much more sure of himself than the day before, "You better get to your chores before Arthur wakes up."

Gilli raised an eyebrow at the warlock skeptically, "What chores?"

Keeping his face neutral Merlin began listing off all the things he normally took care of before the king would wake. He almost lost his composure at the disbelief he saw in Gilli's eyes. He realized it could be quite fun on the other end of things for a change as he watched the young man rush about.

Gwaine's eyes hadn't even opened yet when he said, "Merlin you forgot to tell him about the king's socks."

The warlock studied his friend for a moment before his eyes went wide with realization, "That's right… the socks." He bit his lip as if worried about this particular chore.

Gilli's eyes darted back and forth between the two, "What about his socks?"

"You see, every morning Merlin here used to have to change Arthur's socks before he woke up."

"But he's got his boots on," the young man's brow was heavily furrowed.

"Yeah that's where a bit of magic comes in handy. You need to take off his boots, change the socks with new ones warmed up by the fire, then get the boots back on. And he is downright mean if you wake him up during it." Merlin explained in complete seriousness. "Plus, and trust me on this, he will make your life a living hell if he realizes he's wearing dirty socks."

Gilli crossed his arms and pursed his lips, "You blokes are pulling my leg."

The two men looked at each other and sighed, "I wish we were my friend. You better get the clean ones out of his pack and warm them up at the very least. He might go easy on you since you're still new and all." Merlin shrugged, he noticed Bran watching the exchange with curiosity and had to bite the inside of his cheek.

The new servant shifted on his feet nervously. Abruptly he turned moved towards the king's pack to find some clean socks.

"Oh," Merlin called quietly after him, "And just watch out for the foot fungus. Gaius has given him something for it, but it's supposed to be really contagious."

Arthur hated being woken. Period. The fact that someone was removing his boots and exposing his feet to the cold made it worse. He opened his eyes with a sneer on his face that would make many a sturdy man cower in fear, "What the hell are you doing?"

Gilli looked up into the kings eyes, his throat bobbed as he gulped realizing that his first gut instinct had been correct. He'd been duped. The sound of uncontrollable laughter nearby confirmed that and he barely managed to duck the first item thrown at him as he stuttered with his reply.


	42. Sending Messages

Aithusa just sat on her father's horse staring out into space as they rode along. Merlin had parted ways with the others earlier that morning, after leaving the Valley of Fallen Kings behind them. He found his way to an open meadow away from any road, farm, or township. The girl had shown some signs of life, but since the cave hadn't uttered a word, nor broken even a tiny smile. Merlin dismounted at the edge of the meadow and called to Kilgharrah. While he waited he gathered Aithusa off the horse and held her tightly, setting her down only when the great dragon landed.

He began to greet Merlin when he noticed the child. "I see Y Ddraig Goch was able to pass on her knowledge," Kilgharrah smiled, but then noticed how the young dragon girl didn't respond. "Merlin, what have you done?" He said in accusing voice, his eyes narrowed in anger.

"She entered the Crystal Cave."

Kilgharrah's gasp was enough to confirm to the warlock that it had been a bad thing. "That much information as would come to her in such a place is unhealthy for any of my kind, much less one so young. Why did you allow her to go in there?"

Merlin bit his tongue and took a breath, "She snuck off, I tried to warn her not to go."

The dragon looked to berate the man further but Merlin beat him to the punch, "Don't you dare get after me for that, you were the one that was supposed to be caring for her when she found Morgana before they were both trapped!"

The great beast actually looked a touch embarrassed. Merlin could tell when the dragon turned and was trying to reach Aithusa's mind with telepathy. He then turned back to Merlin, "And so what would you have me do? I am unable to reach her in this state."

Taking a breath, he shrugged, "I don't know, but she needs much more than I can provide for her here."

"It will take time for her to process all that she has witnessed," Kilgharrah stated, but didn't elaborate any further.

Merlin released a sour chuckle, "Arthur, of all people, actually suggested that she needed a mother." Merlin had returned from the cave the night before to find only the king awake and much to his astonishment, still holding the girl. Arthur handed her over easily, smiling at his cousin; he had stated simply, " _Find her a mother,"_  before he headed off to his own bedroll. He didn't even ask about anything that Merlin had seen, or why the warlock would have run off to the cave as he did; just those words and nothing else until the next morning when he was woken by Gilli removing his boots.

Kilgharrah actually seemed to be processing the statement, "Perhaps the young king is correct."

"And where am I supposed to find a mother for a dragon?" he asked tiredly. Kilgharrah was smiling at him in a way that Merlin always dreaded because it meant he had to figure it out on his own. "I thought about taking her back to Grettir, as he taught her to speak and was with her when the red dragon died."

A great chuckle erupted from the dragon, "Do I need to spell out everything for you, Merlin? I had believed we were past that point in our _relationship_."

Merlin didn't miss the emphasis on the last word, and could have smacked himself for missing the obvious. "Can you take her to Morgana?" He asked somewhat sheepishly.

"Indeed that is perhaps the wisest choice. They have experienced much pain together."

Merlin smiled sadly and bent down to Aithusa's level, "What do you think, sweet girl? Would you like to go see Morgana?"

For the first time since he responded to her screams, the girl actually seemed to have a spark of life return. She nodded slightly, still silent and sad, but her blue eyes weren't filled with tears or dread. He kissed her forehead and smiled. "Well you're either going to need to turn back into your dragon form…" She immediately shook her head 'no' and he had to wonder about her reaction. "Can you tell me why?" She just stared at him silently. He finally sighed and stood up, looking back up at Kilgharrah who was watching their exchange with an unreadable expression.

"I shall take her on my back if that is what she wishes," he said without his usual arrogance at the thought of being used as a horse.

"Thank you," he led Aithusa over to where he could help her onto Kilgharrah's neck. "Can you give Morgana a message for me? Tell her… I'm sorry… No, never mind, don't tell her that. Just tell her to be careful not to anger the other dragon."

Kilgharrah turned his head with curiosity, "Another dragon?"

"Well, not exactly, uh," He noted the anxious expression on the dragon's face and took a measure of satisfaction that he seemed to have successfully stumped the great beast. Instead of explaining what he had seen, he kept his face neutral, "Just tell her that please."

He sensed that the large creature was not pleased with being on the receiving end of half-spoken riddles, "I will do as you ask,  _Dragon Lord_."

Merlin smiled to himself. The tone in which he said the last part left no room for debate that it was half meant as an insult, much the way he would call Arthur 'sire'. Kilgharrah prepared to take off when Merlin remembered something. "Wait!" He quickly ran to the horse and grabbed his cloak, heading back to the dragons he climbed up and wrapped the cloth tightly around Aithusa.

"Dragon's do not get cold, Merlin," Kilgharrah chided him.

"Yeah, but she's not in dragon form is she," He raised his eyebrows and cast a glance down but continued to tuck the girl in the fabric in hopes that it wouldn't blow off during the flight. "Hey, I'm going to miss you. Take care of Morgana when you get there, alright. I'm sure she's going to love seeing you. She doesn't know you can change form, and I don't think she's heard you talk yet." He could feel his eyes prickling.

Aithusa turned her head and her face changed just slightly, or perhaps it was just her energy, Merlin couldn't tell, but she appeared just slightly less withdrawn. He squeezed her leg and smiled before climbing back down and moving away from the dragons. He raised his hand in farewell as he watched them fly off, feeling both sad and relieved to see the girl go. Heading back to his horse, he decided to make another stop and gather his thoughts before making his way back to Camelot.

* * *

 

"My guess is, when the servant took…" Sir Hector looked over at the disembodied head sitting on Arthur's table. His eyes shone with caution, "Um... Prince Bran here, it threw the whole lot of them into chaos and their plans took a sideways hit. If it were me, not saying I would ever do anything against you My Lord, but I would have kidnapped the boy, not injured him. Perhaps with Brom it was simply the negligence of a green knight and Sir Cai, due to the circumstances, just took it to mean more. Even the boy admitted he thought he was being helpful in the fight since he'd already killed a man a few weeks back and Brom ain't exactly the most intelligent one of the bunch."

Arthur exhaled noisily. Upon their return, Percival had quickly filled him in with everything that happened and how Hector had looked at him while trying to press for information. It was finally decided to bring the old man into the loop. He laughed when they told him of Loholt's origins. "So for now it seems that it is simply Cai's word against Brom's in this incident. However there is still the matter of Prince Bran here, and those that took him. We know Lord Edmund is involved based on the description and conversations that were overheard. Also it was Lady Thea's servant, although I am reluctant to judge her without speaking to her and her husband first."

"If I may be frank, My Lord," Hector said with a determined look on his face. Arthur motioned for him to continue, "After all the conspiracies against you in the past perhaps it is time to take a page from your father's book in this."

The king's face was impassive as the elder knight continued.

"You need to head this off, even if it's just on suspicions, to make an example for those that may try again. Else it will keep happening, especially when knowledge of the boy comes to light."

Arthur reluctantly agreed with him, he glanced out the window. He couldn't afford to wait this out as he had before. Perhaps if he had acted more like his father when Agravaine, or even Mordred, had been suspected then he might not be in the position he was. Nodding to himself, he realized he was not being rash, there was enough circumstance surrounding the nobles to warrant his actions. He turned to Percival and Hector, "Release Cai and Brom – but warn them to stay away from each other for the time being. Then arrest all the others we spoke of. I'll hear what they have to say in front of the court before I sentence them."

The two knights bowed and left quickly.


	43. Dragons and Drums

" _You have until the spring thaw to change your tune, Lassie. I'll give ya that much since the lord o' the keep isn't around. But you best watch your step, it'd be wise not to make the dragon your enemy."_

Those were Maelgwn's parting words as Morgana and Vivienne left his castle. The storm was raging, but the raven-haired vixen would rather face the wind and sleet than the tempest brewing inside her as she tried to play nice in Maelgwn's court.  _Dragon indeed!_

"There is a monastery just south of here, perhaps we can take refuge at," Vivienne suggested.

Morgana groaned, "Not anymore." Her mother raised an eyebrow, imploring her to explain. "I kind of burnt it down last summer, ok?"

"That seems to be a skill of yours. Burning things, like bridges with people who care about you or could help you."

"Thank you mother, I'm so glad I have you to bring that to my attention," She rolled her eyes and they plodded on in the weather, searching for shelter.

* * *

 

After nearly two days the storm finally broke and they found themselves almost back to the keep. Soaked through to the bone, Morgana was almost at her wits end with Vivienne trying to offer a motherly council. Logically she understood why the woman had not been around during her childhood, however it was getting on her nerves the way she seemed to be trying to make up for it now when Morgana was thirty-two years old. Maelgwn's constant commentary during the visit on how she was ending up an old spinster didn't help her mood.

She could almost picture the warm fire and dry clothing that awaited her in the small fort. The King of the Isle of Mona had the resources to attack at any time, even with the winter. He thought that by giving her the chance to sit and fear him throughout the season she might change her mind and consent to marrying him, or being his mistress. He didn't seem to realize she was the one who had led the Saxon armies against the forces of Lothian and Camelot. But then again, she knew she looked different than what the rumors described of the last High Priestess. Only those that were close in proximity to her while she terrorized the country side and brought about war would be able to possibly recognize her now, and nearly every one of them was dead.

Just as they began the ascent up the hill to the fort, Morgana felt a voice in her head that she didn't recognize.

" _Morgana,"_  It said in a deep melodic voice, each syllable annunciated at a slightly different pitch. Its magical bearing resonated inside of her.

"You go on up the hill," She told her mother, turning her own horse around, "I'll be back in a little while."

She didn't give Vivienne a chance to respond before she took off at a fast pace, following the essence of the voice in her mind. Morgana was a bit stunned when it lead her to the meadow where she knew Merlin used to meet the Red Dragon and there stood the large dragon that was once held under Camelot. She looked around worried, wondering why this beast would show up without the warlock, unless it meant Merlin was in trouble. "You must be Kilgharrah," She said hesitantly, not quite sure of how to approach the creature who had on many occasions counseled Merlin to finish her off.

"I am, but do not fret, I am not here to put an end to you. Merlin's faith pulled you out of the darkness that even I could not see through."

Morgana released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding, "Is he alright?"

Kilgharrah chuckled, "He was when I last saw him, well healed from his last visit."

She waited for the dragon to continue and felt herself growing restless as the moments passed and he just stared at her with a smile on his large face. Up until this moment she always thought Merlin must have been exaggerating when he spoke of how annoying Kilgharrah was. Now she felt herself growing impatient, "So did you just call me out here to tell me that?"

"No, Merlin sent me with a very fragile package he wishes for you to take care of," Once again the dragon didn't elaborate. He sat there looking down on her with his secretive grin.

Hot emotions were beginning to rise within her, "Well, where is it?"

The dragon moved to the side and Morgana gasped when she saw a small pale girl wrapped in a red cloak. "He wants me to take care of a child?" He must have hit his head if he thought for one second she would have any clue on how to take care of child. "What am I supposed to know about raising children?"

She noticed the girl shudder slightly and immediately Morgana regretted the harshness of her words. Kilgharrah chuckled softly, "This is no ordinary child, take a closer look and you will see."

The former priestess stepped towards the frail girl tentatively. Nearly white hair was a mess; knotted and twisted in long frazzled strands, possibly from the wind during the flight. Morgana could barely see a face underneath it all. As she neared, the girl looked up and through the strands she caught sight of the vivid blue eyes. Morgana felt the blood drain from her face looking into those eyes she knew too well. The only eyes she had seen for nearly two years while confined in a dark vile hole. Finally finding her voice she whispered uncertainly, "Aithusa?"

The girl nodded slightly and began to cry. Silent tears were streaming down and leaving trails on her dirty face. Morgana almost tripped as she ran to the girl and swept her up, her own eyes filled with tears of elation.

The larger dragon stepped away and made himself ready to leave, "Oh and Merlin asked that I pass on a message to you, be careful not to anger the other dragon."

Morgana let out a guffaw, "Too late for that, I'm afraid."

Kilgharrah glanced one more time at her curiously and then seemed to decide he didn't want to know more, "Take care of Aithusa, she has seen many things for one so young and will require a tender hand to lead her out of the depths of her own mind." With that he lifted into the air, careful to not buffet the woman and child too much.

* * *

 

A distinct feeling of déjà vu came over him as he entered the courtyard. People were gathered and packed in shoulder to shoulder. Tyr met him just outside the main portcullis to take his horse. "What's happening?"

"Sentencing has been passed on some nobles for treason," The round man stated weakly. "Where's that little girl of yours?"

Merlin flinched as he heard the drums begin to beat out the death cadence. He wondered if it was wise of him to stop at the lake for a day after he sent Aithusa off. He spend the time at the lakeshore in quiet contemplation of the vision he received, and yet found himself no closer to an answer, but a strange sense of peace allowed him to move forward. "She's with… with her mam," he couldn't help the tiny bit of a smile as he said it. A screaming woman from the crowd quickly diminished his mood. "Which ones?" he asked, indicating the proceedings.

"Lord Fenrir, Lord Edmund and his wife, as well as a couple of their servants and Sir William are all out there today. A few others have been stripped of titles. Lady Thea's one of those, and she's been sentenced to the dungeons."

"What about her husband?" Merlin thought it odd that her husband Lord Gavin wouldn't be among the accused.

"Supposedly, I heard she begged for him, swears he wasn't involved at all," The portly stable hand shrugged and sighed. "Almost reminds me of King Uther's days, but I guess it's something that has to be done."

Merlin nodded as he heard the axe fall again to the screams of the crowd. He was glad he wasn't in there to watch it. The warlock felt something deep inside him stir, although he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He abhorred the idea of execution, but he knew it was part of life and essential to keep the kingdom safe. For so long Arthur turned his back to all but the worst of crimes, allowing others to deal out what punishment they felt best. It was a day to be marked that the king began He turned and walked away from the crowd, heading to one of the side entrances of the castle. Just because he understood its necessity did not mean he had to witness it.


	44. Tantrum

"You are just a right little mess aren't you?" Morgana commented as she approached the wooden gate of the fort. Aithusa was silent and withdrawn; a state Morgana had not seen the young dragon in since their imprisonment. Even during that time, Aithusa still made noises of pain as she grew twisted inside the confines of the hole. The silence now seemed to envelope the child completely. The elder boy of the family came out and was shocked to see Morgana with a red bundled cloak the size of a child with her on the horse. She dismounted somewhat clumsily, not letting go of it, though the boy offered, and made her way into the keep without explanation. Stopping at the door she turned and asked if when he finished if he could bring some water to her room. Much to her relief, he informed her that the task had already been done awaiting her return.

She immediately felt a sense of gratification at the warmth from inside the main hall. It was empty and quiet, but it wasn't until she reached her own room that she sat Aithusa down and began unbundling her from the red Camelot cloak. "You know I think this might be too big for you, although I'm not sure how big you really are now," she rambled on, just to fill the quiet void. She carefully brushed the mess of hair from the girl's delicate face. "Well first thing we need to do is get you cleaned up. Then maybe something to eat, and when you feel up to it you can tell me what happened."

The girl stood almost statue still while Morgana stripped her down and bathed her with the warmed water and a tiny bit of soap. The dragon girl just stared into the fire, her eyes would occasionally shift either down, or away when the former priestess tried to get her attention. After a bit Morgana had to step outside of the room. She was becoming frustrated by the lack of response. This little sulking girl was supposed to be Aithusa,  _her dragon_ , the spark of life that had kept her on the edge of completely loosing herself during the years of torment. And it seemed she could do nothing to break through to the child. Feeling her temper rise she went back in the room.

"Ok fine, if this is the way you want to play it, then so be it. Letting you go off to Merlin was obviously a bad idea, he screwed up my life years ago, and now he's screwed you up too." The girl had been holding onto the cloak like a life-line and Morgana began trying to wrestle it from her. Aithusa began crying and it soon turned into a full out wail as Morgana took the cloak and threw it aside. Aithusa screamed out her anger, her eyes glowing with a blue fire as items began sailing around the room. In a state of panic Morgana tried to get close to her to hush the girl.

Vivienne came running in to the pandemonium and saw the child. She pulled her daughter out of the way as a metal flagon soared into the wall. "Who is that girl?"

"It's Aithusa, I don't know what to do?" Fear in her voice and her eyes as she looked at her mother.

The older woman actually smirked amidst it all, "She reminds me of your sister. Let her get it out of her system and just try to control the damage." The two women hunkered down behind the bed, using their magic to keep as many things from shattering candles from catching cloth and curtains on fire as they could. After a few moments it died down, and little Aithusa sunk to the floor whimpering.

Slowly the women extracted themselves from their shelter. Morgana tentatively walked towards the girl. Vivienne moved forward with much more surety and bent down in front of the pale child, "Are you feeling better now?"

Aithusa looked up at the older woman with her swollen red eyes and nodded. The first true interaction Morgana had seen since Kilgharrah dropped the child in her lap. The alabaster skin was splotched with red and her hair was even more of a mess than it had been.

"Good, now that you're done with this tantrum little one, you can help clean up the mess you made."

The little girl began moving about the room of her own accord trying to set up candle holders and various other items. Curtains that had been torn down in the fit, the little girl tried, somewhat in vain, to pile them onto the bed. She gave up on that with a wimper and turned instead to some parchments that had been swept off Morgana's small table.

Morgan looked at her mother curiously, "How… what just happened?"

The older woman chuckled, "Sometimes children get too caught up in things that are beyond their comprehension. Typically, they don't have the ability to create a full storm inside a room." She gestured to the chaos that lay around them. "But, a good tantrum from time to time helps them break through the wall of doubt and refresh their minds."

"Oh…"


	45. Cost of the Crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,  
> They shine with equal splendor, still above far humbler halls.  
> I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,  
> Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.
> 
> The royal circlet of bright gold rests lightly on my brow,  
> I once thought only of the rights this circlet would endow.  
> But once I took the crown to which I had been schooled and bred,  
> I found it heavy on the heart, though light upon the head.
> 
> *** Lyrics: Cost of the Crown, Written by: Mercedes Lackey

The winter season was much milder than expected, with more days of sunshine than the cold rain that normally assaulted the lands. A restless feeling was coming over the people as the New Year rolled by. Pirates from Gaul were out in force, pillaging the coastal towns with a growing frequency amidst the calmer seas. Unfortunately, that meant sending out more men to help guard the ports and sending out vessels that would normally be undergoing repairs to chase down the brigands of the seas. Annis knew the move was leaving her city vulnerable; she already received reports of at least one of her ships having gone down. But the news she most recently received left her cold. She looked out at the men in the courtyard training with their weapons and knew her kingdom was spread too thin to mount a full defense if it came to it. Lot's son Gaheris still had command of much of her army along the north east coast where the battle against the Saxons waged on. Although information was diluted by the time it reached her, she knew they were winning and hoped that soon the treaty she struck with Lot would begin benefiting Caerleon.

She watched her grandson, a boy of almost six years as he playfully spared with the men below. In him she saw her son, though the last time Annis knew him he was barely a toddler. The stories told to her by Percival and Gwaine allowed her to feel that she knew the man he had become. Now she realized in hindsight, her custody of him came at a price that might cause her entire kingdom to suffer. Yet it was one she would gladly pay again many times over…

_They left Caerleon the day after the two knights from Camelot brought her the information of her lost son. He sacrificed himself for the entire world against the shadows of the netherworld. There was no greater joy that to know Lancelot was a hero his father would have been proud of, but by the same token there was no heavier sorrow than to realize she would never again hold her child in her arms. They rode for almost two weeks searching for the wandering band of Irish gypsy's before tracking them down across the border in the kingdom of Amata. They knew it was a dangerous gamble to enter into the lands of 'The Sarrum' as he preferred to be called, styling his own name as a title. But for the love of this unknown child Annis was willing to take the risk._

_They found the camp easy enough and Percival rode ahead alone to announce their arrival, since he was known among them from his travels with Lancelot. While she waited on the outskirts with Sir Gwaine and three of her personal guard, all as incognito as a royal queen and her knights could be, a wild boy dashed out of the trees between their horses- spooking the queen's mount and nearly throwing her from the saddle. One of her envoy dismounted easily and caught the running boy._

_His black hair was long and shaggy, his face and clothing was covered with mud, and the dark eyes held the look of a feral animal. Sharp little teeth bit into the arm of the man that held him before the boy spun in the weakened grasp and kicked the man in the shin as he darted between the legs. He giggled wildly as he ran, not paying attention to what was in front of him, and fell on his back as he smacked into a wall of solid muscle. Invisible birds circled the boy's head, his eyes blinked in shock and he looked straight up into the face of the largest man he had ever seen. Quickly jumping to his feet, the boy began to scream about a giant attacking._

_The 'giant' picked the wild boy up by the back of his shirt and held him out at arm's length, his feet barely touching the ground as he wailed and threw ineffective punches. Fingernails tried to gain purchase against the large man's arm to no avail._

_A woman, looking exhausted and at her wits end stood nearby breathing heavily. "Aye, that's 'im."_

" _Elaine, I'd like to introduce you to Queen Annis of Caerleon," Percival said ignoring the protesting boy in his grasp._

_The red haired woman gave an awkward curtsey to the queen, "So ye want this beast, eh?"_

_Annis looked down on the woman with indignation at the way she talked about the boy. Stepping off her horse the queen moved towards them. She pinched the child's chin between her fingers, looking him over as if she were assessing a horse. Satisfied with what she saw, she turned to the woman. "Are you certain he is the son of Lancelot?" She asked while keeping her features schooled so as not to betray the outrage she felt at Elaine's obvious apathy toward the boy._

" _Ye mean the ass that married me, got me wi' child then left without another word ne'er to be seen again?" The woman rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Best thing that e'er 'appened was 'im dying so's I could move on."_

_The elder queen smiled coolly, "If his name was Lancelot, then yes, that is the man I am referring to."_

_The boy had quieted down a bit, watching the exchange with curiosity. He knew very little about the man who was his father, except that he was not gypsy, and because of that he always felt like an outcast among his mother's people. The boy's grandfather, who was the chieftain of their band of travelers, only acknowledged the boy when berating him or pointing out that no matter what the child would never be a true blood. When Elaine had tricked the wandering swordsman into marriage, she had done so against the wishes of the family in effort to escape tradition and a pre-arranged nuptial of her father's choosing. The dark-haired boy was never allowed to forget that he was the product of the unapproved union. Many times he felt as if his family blamed him for his mother's actions, as if his spirit had led her to the temptation of the foreign man before his birth._

_Before he could even walk, his mother was told of the swordsman's demise. The family rejoiced in the news and she was married off to the one she had originally been slated for. He was never allowed to call his mother's husband, the only father he had known, 'dadaí' and before he was two his mother was pregnant with her new husband's child, he was all but cast aside. The boy would occasionally dream at night of an elegant warrior that would come and take him away from it all. He looked up at the men surrounding him and the two women. He let out with another spurt of anger, wailing against the muscled arm that still held him. None of these were the man he fantasized about._

_Elaine walked over and smacked the boy across the face, "Enough o' you! Else I'll 'ave ta tell yer father o' this, now quiet!" She warned, turning back to the group as two men from her camp came up to join them._

_Gwaine's dark brown eyes were narrowed at the woman; his knuckles were white under the gloves that squeezed tightly on the pommel of his saddle. He could see Percival struggling with his own emotions at the callous way Elaine spoke of their late friend._

" _What's goin' on 'ere?" The elder of the two men asked, his eyes scanned over them all in a calculating manner before coming to rest on the queen of Caerleon._

_Annis smiled at him pleasantly, "I have come to believe this boy may be of some relation to me. I came here with Sir Percival of Camelot, whom you are acquainted with, to check on his welfare."_

" _She wants ta take 'im," Elaine told the man._

" _Is that so?" He asked in a low voice. "Come daughter, let's 'ave a bit o' a chat." He led Elaine a few steps away. The other man, followed with them._

_The queen turned back to the boy. "What is your name child?"_

_He gulped, "Haddy."_

" _Haddy? Is that your full name?"_

_He shook his head, as much as he was able while still being held by the large knight, "Galahad, it all I 'ave o' me real dadaí." He wasn't sure why he said it that way. His mother's husband would have whipped him for even mentioning the man. Haddy tensed, awaiting the repercussions from the strangers._

_The man with dark brown hair that feathered off to the side chuckled, "Not the only thing, you got his looks, too, kido."_

_Percival snorted softly in agreement and relaxed his grip on the child._

_The wild boy looked between them, "You knew him?" He asked both the knights, his mouth and eyes were wide in shock._

_The giant man nodded, "He was a true and loyal friend."_

" _And the noblest of heroes, who sacrificed his life for everyone," Gwaine added recalling the man he and Percival had been knighted with._

_Annis felt her heart swell with pride as the two men described the son she never knew. The elder queen looked down at the boy with a secretive smile, "How would you like it if we took you away from here to join us and learn of your father's legacy?"_

_Before the boy could answer the three gypsies rejoined the group. The woman smiled, although it didn't reach her eyes. Despite the circumstances, he was her child with the handsome swordsman she had been so infatuated with that she threw her family's long standing customs out the window for. Deep inside she loved the boy, but he was a constant reminder of her scandalous behavior in the face of tradition, and although she tried initially, she often wondered if they both would have been better off had she left him to the elements. Now in the face of this regal woman and her men, Elaine could finally see a ray of hope for her child, "If'n ye really want 'im, I'll be 'appy ta let ye take 'im, fer a price."_

_Had it been left to her, she would gladly have let the strangers take him without a fuss, but her father and husband saw a way to make a profit. Annis's eyebrow rose in curiosity as she looked between Elaine and the two gyspy men, silently elated that taking the boy would be easier than she anticipated. They haggled for a while before an agreement was reached._

_Haddy felt like a piece of livestock at the way they bartered over his fate, a glance at the two men who claimed to know his real father and he could see they were trying to remain impassive about the whole affair. "Do you have anything you need to get before we leave?" The giant holding him asked._

_The boy shook his head. There was nothing but the clothes on his back that the five year old could claim as his own. He wanted to run to his mother and cry, but she was always reserved around him when others were watching and he learned early on to accept that as part of his reality. "Naw, I just wan' ta go," he said hoarsely. It seemed surreal as the large man lifted him onto the horse with the brown-haired one before getting on his own. He looked back as they rode away to see his mother wiping away silent tears._

Annis sighed, her heart heavy with the burdens of the crown. Word came to her that the boy's gyspy step-father decided he could make an even greater profit from their transaction as he had gone to Sarrum with the information of a foreign queen trespassing in his lands and taking one of his subject's children. The Amatan forces were being mobilized, according to her sources, and preparing to set out for Caerleon.

She sent a herald to Lothian in hopes that she could receive support before the inevitable came to pass, but as of yet had heard nothing in reply. She felt guilty that her main concern was not for her kingdom, but for the child. Annis finally came to a decision. She called for one of her most trusted men.

"Take my grandson and ride swiftly for Camelot. Inform King Arthur of what we are facing and give him this letter. It asks for his assistance in the inevitable war we are facing as well as permission for Galahad to be fostered within his citadel until the danger is passed," She finished her missive with a wax seal and handed it to the man. "Bring Galahad to me before you depart, I wish to have a word with the boy."

The man took the letter and bowed before leaving to do the queen's bidding.

A while later the boy arrived at the queen's chamber. In the short amount of time he had resided in Caerleon Haddy had changed from a wild unkempt feral child into a well-mannered and properly groomed prince, as if in his heart it was what he always knew himself to be. He still suffered from a wild streak of obstinance that came from lack of proper discipline in his early years, but his progress was astonishing. She felt a sinking feeling at throwing another upheaval into his young life, and she tried to explain in to him in terms he could comprehend.

"Will Sir Perce an' Gwaine be there?" He asked with a maturity that exceeded his young age.

"I imagine they will be," She assured him.

Haddy nodded, "Then it'll be a'ight." He smiled and she noted with a bittersweet feeling, as she had many times over the past weeks, how it reminded her of her late husband.

"Once the current strife is settled, you will be welcome to return."

He smiled and hugged the older woman, the first person in his life that seemed to care about him without conditions, "I'll come back, I promise."

* * *

 

A few days later his eyes were wide in wonder as the city of Camelot came into view. He was overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the inland gleaming castle. But he had felt the same awe-inspiring feeling when he was first led into Caerleon. The two places were as different as night and day, though neither less grand. They were taken immediately to a large hall with polished wooden floors. One wall had leaded glass windows reaching from the floor to a ceiling as tall as the sky, he thought. The opposite was hung with banners and tapestries larger than anything he could have imagined. In the center was a round table that could hold at least thirty men and currently every seat was occupied. Through the crowd he spotted Sir Percival and Sir Gwaine smiling at him, near to them sat another man, thinner and without armor. He watched the boy with a slight grin and piercing blue eyes. Also close by was a woman with a darker brown skin tone, the likes of which the boy had never seen. Her brown eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she looked at him, he felt slightly uncomfortable under her gaze. A jeweled diadem rested on her brow and he guessed she must be the queen.

Haddy's guardian spoke with the blond man wearing a crown, who the boy guessed must have been the king. The blond monarch broke the seal on his grandmother's letter and read threw it. He decisively began ordering the knights gathered. A few he sent to prepare some troops, others he sent off to nearby allied kingdoms to request aid for Caerleon. It was all very chaotic and Haddy found he could barely keep up with it all, but he felt his pride swelling to see people he didn't know taking action to help his grandmother.

Merlin silently watched it all as most of the knights left to attend to the king's orders; he noticed the look of sorrow and longing on Gwen's face. He knew she was ready to accept the boy into be fostered, but something inside him wondered if that would be the best for the boy. There was no doubt she would care for him deeply, however her connection to Lancelot had the possibility to create some difficulties for that situation. "Percival," Merlin finally spoke up, "I think you should foster the boy. You were the closest one to Lancelot, I think he'd approve."

The warlock diligently avoided the queen's glare. "I think that's a fine idea, Merlin!" Arthur said happily, not noticing the look on his wife's face.

Percival seemed a bit stunned, "I… uh… I would be honored, but what about when I leave for patrol?"

"Perhaps the Lady Clarissant can assist you in caring for him," The king offered slyly.

"I suppose…" he stammered.

Gwaine tried lackadaisically to conceal a snort of laughter. Everyone left in the room looked at the roguish man. He rolled his eyes, "Come on, Percival, all of Camelot knows you fancy my sister. Are ya ever gonna ask for my blessing or not?"

The large knights face was filled with trepidation, he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. He could feel his mouth moving as he attempted to formulate a reply, but the words refused to come out.

"Seriously friend, we've been through this before," the flippant knight remarked, suddenly finding a speck on the table to scratch at, "if you aren't really that interested then you need to quit leading her on. There are…"

"Don't start that again, Gwaine!" Percival nearly shouted, glaring murderous intentions at his so-called best friend. The remaining people in the room collectively held their breath. He sighed and regained control of his emotions. Licking his lips nervously he finally said softly, "Yes I have been trying to find the best way to ask you."

Gwaine grinned, "Well, you know I already think of you like a brother. So… do you need me to ask her for ya, or do you think you can manage that part on your own?"

Even Gwen, who was still smarting from Merlin's suggestion that Percival, not her, should foster the boy, couldn't stop giggling at the look of fear on Percival's face when he thought Gwaine was serious.

(*~*~*~*)

Outside the round table room Gwen stalked after the warlock. He was walking quickly away her, as if he was unaware she was following. He visibly cringed when she called out his name firmly. Sucking in a breath he turned and offered her a pleasant smile, "What can I do for you, My Lady?"

"Why did you do that?" She asked without hesitation.

"Do what?" He tried to respond innocently.

"Suggest that Percival foster the boy. You know Arthur and I would have gladly accepted him as our own ward," The lines around her eyes tightened unhappily.

Merlin released the air from his lungs, "I know."

"Explain yourself then!" The queen demanded.

He looked around the hallway. It was a busy time of day and there were people coming and going on their rounds. "Let's find someplace private and I'll tell you," he offered.

They walked together towards the Queen's chamber. Once inside Merlin raked his fingers through his hair and puffed out a breath while Gwen waited for his explaination. "I saw the look on your face when you caught sight of the boy. He is certainly Lancelot's son, but he's not Lancelot, nor is he your son…"

"MERLIN! I perfectly well realize that. What Lancelot and I had was so long ago…"

"Let me finish!" Her lips formed into a tight line and she scowled at him before nodding. He held up his hands, palms facing her, "Logically, you know that, but he is Queen Annis's grandson and heir. He will only be here for fostering as long as it takes to settle things with Amata. I know how much you want a child, but do you think your heart could handle fostering him only to break when he has to be sent back to his grandmother?"

She blinked at his brutally honest words and walked over to the window, gazing out pensively for a few moments. She chewed on her bottom lip while running his reasoning over in her mind. Gwen fought back the tears and shook her head. A shaky breath escaped her, "No… you're right. I don't think I would be able to." Her emotions began to overwhelm her, and she felt her best friend's arms wrap around her shoulders from behind. Leaning back into their comfort she began to weep. It was highly inappropriate but at that moment, she could have cared less. After a while she wiped away the tears, but made no move to break from the embrace. "Merlin, do you think there is any way… with your magic..." She began to ask a bit apprehensively.

He stiffened instantly and dropped his arms from her shoulders and took a step back. "Gwen, please don't ask me that," he begged her, his blue eyes wide with hidden fears.

"But, Merlin…"

"No!" He cut her off, moving quickly towards the door. He stopped with his hand on the latch, "If you want to know why I won't, you need to speak to Arthur about it." Then, he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.


	46. Match Maker

Standing in the shadows of the doorway he could see her. Long dark brown hair hung in silky waves down her back, the sun causing the highlights to gleam with a reddish tint. It made his heart beat faster to see her as she was, sitting in the light, her eyes closed, with a peaceful look on her face. For too long she had been tormented and terrorized, now finally she was free of all that.

He took a deep breath and moved into the queen's private garden. Part of him wanted to sneak up on the woman, but a sense of self-preservation told him he would pay dearly if he did such a thing. He made certain to step loudly as he moved towards her.

Even so, the sound of his footfalls made her startle and she angled her head wearily to see who it was. She let out the breath she was holding when she saw him and smiled softly.

"Hey beautiful, mind if I join you?"

Clarissant looked up at the man and nodded. Gwaine sat next to her and stretched out on the lawn grinning. "What are you up to?" She asked accusingly.

He made a sound of hurt, "Why would I be 'up to' anything?" Her lips twisted and she stared at him in mistrust. "Alright, there's this guy I know who has been watching you and is rather keen about you."

She groaned. Since coming to Camelot Clarissant had been subject to a number of requests from different men. Some were nobles, others were knights, even a few of the merchants at the market appeared interested in making her acquaintance. This was not the first request her brother had pressed upon her, "Gwaine, I really don't…"

"No hear me out.  He's a great guy and I think you might like him. He's so infatuated by you that he wanted me to ask you something."

"Stop right there, I am not interested in any relationship beyond the ones I have already established."

"C'mon Clare! He's a decent guy and he would love to meet you. Hell, he's already talking about marrying you. I think it would be a good match."

She glared at her twin with hatred, "There is no way I would consider any type of marriage proposal! How dare you even think of speaking to me about something like this. Really, Gwaine, after all I have gone through? How can you be so callous to my plight? I spent thirteen years in the hell called marriage, what makes you so rash to think I would want to just jump into it again because you think the man is 'decent'?" Clarissant was trembling with fury and Gwaine knew he had crossed the line.

His eyes were wide with alarm at how angry she had become, "Look, I'm sorry, I just thought you might want to give this bloke a chance. But if that's how you feel I'll go tell him right now." He moved to stand up and leave.

Clarissant gasped, "He's here already? Damn it all to hell, Gwaine, I thought you had some measure of propriety. To bring a stranger here to the queen's garden, you have no manners at all do you?"

His face fell as she scolded him and he sighed melodramatically. Glancing over towards the door behind him, he called out in a sorrowful voice, "Sorry, she's not interested in marriage."

Her brown eyes shifted towards the door fearfully, realizing the man must have been overhearing the entire conversation. Percival stood there looking for all the world like a rabbit about to bolt. In his shaking hand he held a rose. Her eyes narrowed as she turned back to her brother. Her voice started low, "You dirty rotten, pox-marked, hedge-pig! I should rip out your bowels and feed them to the crows!" She punched him in the shoulder and he reeled back laughing hysterically which only served to heighten her anger and she began wailing against his arm as he cackled even harder.

"Hey Perce…" He was rolling and trying to block her blows, "Are ya sure you want to really marry such a spitfire?"

She pulled back, suddenly overcome with embarrassment as she realized the large man was still there. She covered her face in her hands to hide her shame. "How could you do this to me, Gwaine?" She hissed out.

Percival stepped forward and swallowed heavily while nodding. He realized she wasn't even looking at him, so he cleared his throat and tried to find his voice, "Yeah, um, yes… if you know, uh…" He moved closer and took a deep breath coming to crouch in front of her, "If she'll have me."

Clarissant peeked out from behind her hands and caught his bluish gray eyes. She sniffled and vainly attempted to wipe the tears away on her sleeve before nodding faintly.

He smiled bashfully and held out the rose. With shaking fingers she accepted it, not caring about the water streaming from her eyes now as she threw her arms around his neck and whispered against his ear, "Yes, I'll have you."

Large arms wrapped around her gently and pulled her closer. She wondered how she could have gone from something as dark and twisted as her marriage to Guirom to finally feeling so safe in man's arms. He pulled back just enough to place a soft kiss on her lips.

During the exchange Gwaine silently stood up and made his way out of the garden. He paused at the door briefly to look back at the couple. He smiled, satisfied that his sister would finally have the love she deserved. Rubbing his bruised shoulder, he decided a drink was in order to help kill the pain. For all the frailty she displayed, the woman had a mean right cross.


	47. Seeds

"Ah Merlin, I was hoping to catch you," The old woman said as she spied the warlock. Alice smiled at him companionably. He was glad to see that she had quickly become an established part of life in Camelot. Although their relationship was rocky at first, over time they finally reached a level of understanding. It took one evening while Merlin was visiting his mentor and she began teasing him relentlessly before Gaius finally put his foot down and berated them both for the childish behavior. He was downright tired of it. The young man took a small satisfaction in knowing he wasn't the only one getting the beat down from the physician.

Things were finally settling into a routine in Camelot and Merlin felt himself gaining a bit of his old confidence back. The servants he used to count himself among began to see he was the same person, always willing to lend a hand or a smile. Even a few of the reluctant nobles started coming around.

Gilli stepped into the role of servant fairly quickly and Alice managed to teach him a small shield spell that deflected much of what Arthur literally tried to throw at the boy. His magical abilities were minimal compared to Merlin's but with the ring to amplify the power it allowed him just enough of an edge to keep up with the king. George spent his time between Arthur and Merlin, still preferring the latter as he hadn't the defense of the other servant, but Gilli's lessons in reading and writing were painfully slow, thus forcing George to continue with less menial tasks. After the incident with Bran, he thankfully was not forced to carry the head around. Much of Bran's days were split between Geoffrey, Merlin, and the newly engaged Clarissant. Gwaine took great pleasure in explaining every detail of the proposal to Merlin who rolled his eyes and asked how Percival felt about the way his soon to be brother-in-law talked him into such a ploy. The roguish man grinned, "I can't wait to see what she's going to try to do to me as payback." He held up his tankard with a 'cheers' and drained it.

Unfortunately, Gwen was currently not speaking to the warlock. She was going out of her way, actually, to avoid the man after their last parting. He wondered mutely if she had followed his advice and asked Arthur about it, but he felt certain the king would have brought it up during one of their private meetings. It still seemed odd to Merlin that he no longer had to be up before the crack of dawn to prepare Arthur for his day, although he wasn't about to argue against his new living situation. The bed alone made the transition worthwhile.

He often let his mind wander to the north and the women he cared about. He loved Aithusa dearly, but he realized she had just been too much for him to handle while he adjusted to this new life, and he couldn't give her what she needed. He hoped that she was doing better with Morgana than she had here in Camelot. At times he would wake in the middle of the night as memories of the crystal cave haunted him. He was no closer to finding a solution. However in one glimpse he had witnessed the army attacking the castle fleeing and that alone gave him the inner strength to keep moving forward from day to day.

It had taken him years to finally realize that he couldn't afford to dwell on these glimpses, as whatever he saw would be hastened if he acted rashly as he had in the past. A few times he thought about trying to scry for them, but his previous experience with that left him shying away from the idea. Spring would come soon enough when he would see them again.

Arthur was being usual prattish self. Merlin had filled in Gilli and George a bit more, in secret, about the king's condition and between the three of them had made certain that the monarch wasn't pushing himself as much. However there seemed to be nothing they could do to keep the stubborn man from training with his knights or participating in small local tournaments. They finally managed, after bringing Percival into the loop, to even finagle around his desire to go out on patrols, unless Merlin went ahead with another group to clear the way of bandits and the like. When Arthur found out this was happening he threw a tantrum, Merlin managed to duck most of the items, but still sported a lump from a pewter paperweight off the king's desk. Arthur sulked around for at least a week afterwards until a nasty hit during a practice session gave him a dose of reality. Merlin assured him, once they found the cauldron he could go back to his usual regime.

Percival was walking around everywhere with a permanent grin on his face. Between his engagement and tutoring Galahad who was nearly always seen tailing the large man around, he seemed, unlike Merlin, to fall into both roles naturally. Sir Hector decided after the conspirators were taken care of to assist the young knight in learning the finer points of command. Between them and Merlin they eventually flushed out what they hoped were the last of the traitorous group. Although the question still remained as to how they gained their information. Cai was still upset about his altercation with Brom, so a schedule was made to keep the two knights away from each other as much as possible. Merlin had his suspicions and after having traveled with Cai, he trusted him, but Loholt refused to blame the younger knight for his injury.

The warlock had finally taken the boy aside one day and spoke with him about what happened in Southron with the dagger. As much as he tried, Loholt couldn't reproduce the effect. Finally, Merlin decided that it must have been a combination of desperate need and the magic within the blade that helped him survive the cold, wet night in the strange woods. In an experiment using Gilli's ring they had a slight bit more of a response, but it was still so negligible that it was hardly noticeable. Perhaps if he dedicated his time to studying he could eventually gain some level of control over magic, but Loholt was certainly his father's son and much preferred holding a shield on the training grounds than a book in the library.

Merlin actually found himself with time on his hands to study and explore the vast shelves of the vaults and in the library, including the room he had discovered years before, although he was much more careful before opening any boxes than he had been in his younger days. However one hexagonal shaped chest occasionally suffered from getting knocked about a bit rougher than was necessary. The warlock knew with absolute certainty if it was ever opened his life would be a living hell, but he smiled and purposefully stubbed his toes against it anyway.

Slowly attitudes in the kingdom of Camelot were changing and those with magic were becoming less fearful of being caught and punished. The people of the city were still suspicious, but even that was beginning to shift. In large part thanks to Alice whose ability with magical potions for curing even some of the worst ailments had even some of the strongest disbelievers reevaluating their stand- especially if they found themselves in need.

Much of Merlin's study was devoted to figuring out what the potion ingredients were. There was a long list in the book the red dragon had given him, and with the help of the two healers, and Bran they were able to figure out the majority, but a few still remained elusive. The main one that worried him was the mage stone. Despite his efforts at searching the vaults, and even Uther's old chambers, the small amber colored stone seemed to have just disappeared. He searched the ground surround Gorlois's grave with his magic and came up empty handed.

"I was hoping you would accompany back to the workroom we think we may have figured something out where the ingredients are concerned," Alice said to him.

"Oh?" He felt a measure of hope at her words, eagerly he asked, "Which one?"

"Well a couple of them actually. Lady Clarissant came by with Bran while we were discussing it and something we said appeared to strike a chord with her. She retrieved a book that was written by Taliesin, although parts appear to be a dictation from someone else, whose name we can't make out." Something about her tone of voice caught Merlin's attention, as if she knew who it was, but for some reason refused to elaborate. "The seeds of wisdom could be a reference to Avalon and a tree grown there…"

Merlin held up his hand a strange look of contemplation on his face. It wasn't two days before he had come across an ancient book in the hidden room with a reference to isle of Avalon, but in the notations was a scrawl left by someone long ago that translated the faded script to apples instead. He suddenly recalled the druid sorcerer from the orchard, " _The seeds you plant will grow strong in the heart of Albion."_ Merlin spun around and started rushing back the way they had come.

"Where are you going?" Alice called out in confusion.

Merlin turned around, half-running in reverse, a goofy smile on his face, "I just remembered something!" A maid turning the corner with a basket full of laundry collided with him and the unmentionables went flying as he fell backwards over the pile. He stood up and apologized, blushing as he handed the girl a pair of pantaloons that had ended up on his head, before turning back to Alice, "I'll meet you there, I have to go find it!"

The old woman sighed and chuckled before heading back to the physician's room, "Kids!"

* * *

 

Merlin strode into Gaius's room, beaming from ear to ear. A spring in his step the old man thought had gone a long time ago. Onto the desk, where the physician sat, Alice looking over his shoulder, the warlock proudly placed a small apple. "Ta da! Seeds of wisdom, straight from a druid called Afallach."

"Afallach?" Gaius's eyebrow disappeared against the man's hairline, "Are you certain?"

"Yeah…why?" he gave his mentor a quizzical look.

"Afallach was said to be the Faerie king of the island of apples, which some now say is Avalon."

Merlin sucked in his cheeks until his lips were pursed. His own black eyebrows rivaling the rise of his mentor, "Now you tell me! I've had that thing for weeks!" He spun around hearing a man and woman chuckling from the table behind him.

Bran cleared his throat and looked his descendant over. The young man's clothing was wrinkled and askew, the dark hair was standing on end as if fingers had been run through it too many times recently in an effort to pull it out. In general Merlin just appeared a mess. "What happened to you?"

The warlock looked down at his disheveled state then back up at Bran with a wide smile and a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, this is nothing! You should see my room."

_A large amount of noise was emanating from the other side of the door as George paused with his hand on the latch. He took a breath to steady himself for the confrontation that might occur inside the room. Noticing a passing guard he waved him closer, just a precaution, he told himself. There could be any number of reasons for the sounds of someone trashing the private quarters. Opening the door tentatively, the servant began to peer inside. He ducked as something flew past his head and startled him back out into the hallway. George glanced around to make certain he was at the correct room and hadn't mistakenly gone to the King's chambers._

_The guard stiffened, ready to burst in if the servant required him to. Gulping down his apprehension, said servant opened the door again, a bit more cautiously and angled his head around the wooden door. He nearly fainted at the sight before him. Merlin was tearing through his armoire, scattering clothing and bed linens in every direction. Nearly all the drawers in each desk and dresser was pulled out and dumped. Even the bedding looked like it had been hit with a massive storm._

_George was breathing heavy as he backed out of the room and tried to catch his breath. He dismissed the guard before steeling himself to reenter. Standing tall he strode through the door into the maelstrom. "My Lord…" his voice caught in his throat and he kept his eyes purposefully above the disarray. Coughing into his fist, he tried again, "My Lord, is something the matter?"_

" _I can't find it!" Merlin stood up, panic in his eyes. He raked a hand over his head, "I can't bloody find it!"_

_The proper servant licked his lips and tentatively asked, "Can't find what?"_

" _The apple, the one I brought back with me from Southron," He groaned and headed for a chest he had already torn apart to see if he missed anything._

_Carefully stepping over the debris, George walked towards the desk and picked something up, "You mean this one that has been sitting on your desk for a while now?"_

_The warlock looked up in disbelief before grinning broadly, "AW, Thank you, George!" He ran to the man and took the apple before finally noticing the chaos he had created._

_Before he could say anything, George held up his hand, "I'll take care of this; you seem in a bit of a rush."_

" _I owe you George! You're the best!" Merlin yelled as he dashed out of the room._

_George sighed and shook his head, "Nobles! They can never see what is right in front of them." Sighing again, he began to put the room back in order._


	48. Geraint and Enid...and Emma

The door was cracked open and he could hear voices speaking in low conspiratorial tones beyond it. Slipping in silently he saw a group of people gathered around a table pouring over open books with intense concentration. He made his way to the desk set near the wall and leaned against it, watching them for a bit, unwilling to disturb them. When it appeared they were not going to notice him or be finished with whatever they were doing anytime soon, he began to grow bored and started looking around at the items on the desk. He spied a small fruit, probably left by one of them as a snack for later. Figuring he'd promise whoever owned it a replacement later, he picked it up and almost had it to his mouth when he found himself frozen, unable to move.

"I swear to every god in existence Gwaine, if you so much as lick that apple I will make certain you live to regret it," Merlin threatened the man. His hand was pointed towards the knight, a soft glow fading from his eyes. The warlock moved towards his friend and plucked the small apple from the rogue's fingers before releasing the spell that held him.

"Wow, I never knew you were so protective over your food, Merlin!" He chuckled nervously.

Gaius pushed himself up and hobbled over, using a cane for balance. He took the apple from Merlin. "I'll put this away where it won't be devoured by hungry vermin," he said in a teasing voice, directing his comment toward the knight. "What brings you here Gwaine? You never struck me as the type to help with research."

"Naw, just looking for Clare," he pointed to his sister. "I was hoping to chat with you."

She groaned and rolled her eyes, "What now? Going to try and convince me that Percival changed his mind or something?"

Gwaine gave her a quirky look, "No. If he wants the unending torment of being related to me, who am I to stop him." He winked at his twin, "Seriously though, can I pull you away for a spell? Not a word out of you," He turned an accusing finger on Merlin who attempted to appear innocent although everyone in the room could tell a friendly jibe at the knight's wording was on the tip of his tongue. Gwaine looked around, "So, what it is you lot are doing in here anyway?"

"Trying to figure out the remaining two ingredients listed, as well as trying to track down a third one that was lost nearly ten years back," Merlin explained.

Gwaine sauntered over to the others and glanced at the books. "What are they, maybe a fresh set of unschooled eyes could help."

Clarissant looked at her brother for a moment, before deciding it couldn't hurt. "One is dragon's blood," she said.

The roguish man squinted, "Well that's an easy one…"

"Not as easy as you might think," Alice cut in. "There are in fact two different things this could be, based on the context. One is real blood from a dragon, the other is an extremely rare resin compound that the Roman's used. It takes the sap from a dragon tree, and combines it with cinnabar, a highly toxic crystal found in places like Egypt."

"Oh…" He couldn't think of response. So he decided to just skip over trying to come up with a witty retort, "What about the other?"

"It translates to 'blood' or possibly 'body' of the 'deceiver'," Gaius stated, sounding somewhat unconvinced.

Gwaine waited for one of them to elaborate, "And?"

"And nothing," Merlin groaned, "That's all it says. There is nothing else about it. We've been going through everything to try and figure out of it's a compound like the dragon's blood possibility, or a creature. If it's a bad translation and has a completely different meaning, we can't be sure."

He looked at them all as if they had gone bonkers, "This is something for that poison thing right?" There were a few nods. "Well poison is usually used by someone trying to be sneaky about things, you know-  _deceptive_ , so wouldn't it be the blood of the one who used it in the first place?"

Merlin's face went blank for a moment before he chuckled and realized they had indeed all been over thinking the problem. Although if Gwaine was correct, it brought up another issue, "Assuming you are right, then how do you suggest we take blood from a dead man?"

"Not my place to figure that out for ya," Gwaine winked, "You're the smart one around here. Now that I've done my part in helping, I'm going to steal my sister for a bit."

Clarissant chuckled and picked up her shawl, following her brother out of the physician's chambers. They walked along the corridors arm in arm, "So what is it?"

"We just got word from Lothian," he seemed more reserved than usual. "Firstly, it seems the Saxons have been routed all the way to the eastern shores, and now are beginning a push south."

She nodded, but did not understand why that would affect her. She knew of her uncle that commanded the army of Lothian and her allies, but had never met him.

"Also, it seems as if age has finally taken its toll on Lot and he has fallen ill."

"Oh," Clarissant knew that her brother had made peace with whatever past was between him and their grandfather. She was conflicted, having only seen him once as her late father-in-law handed over Gwaine to him when they were teenagers. The memories of her mother's stories of the man were still etched in her mind although her twin now had a different tale to tell, one that was supposedly backed up by their uncles and others in the kingdom of Lothian. Even Merlin had relayed the story of Morgana's mother, Vivienne, as she passed through and saved her mother. She held her judgment however, until she felt strong enough to meet the man for herself. Now she wondered if she might never get a chance.

"I know you and Percival were taking your time and all, but Lot wants to meet you and he's a strategizing old coot. I just wanted to suggest that before we head north in the next couple weeks, maybe the two of you should get it done so he doesn't have any reason to try and persuade you otherwise."

"I don't understand. You seem to respect him but…"

"But I know his type, and if he can find a way to work an advantage, he will. So, if we take the option away from him, there won't be any question. Will you talk to Percival and at least consider it?"

She sighed and smiled. What her brother was suggesting, about her and Percival actually getting married before they set out on the journey was something the two had already discussed, but it wouldn't hurt anything to let Gwaine think it was his idea for now.

* * *

 

Smiling flirtatiously at the well-groomed manservant next to her she tried to at least appear interested in what he was saying, although his jokes were only laughable in how stupid he was to think anyone would consider them funny.

The past few months had been extremely difficult for her, with the fear looming over her head that she might soon have nowhere to go. The last time she had been in such a position was when she was barely ten years old. Her parents both died when she was a hardly more than a toddler. Her mother fell from a sickness and in a bid to heal his wife; her father had chosen to consort with a man claiming to be a sorcerer. She recalled being held back by a relative as her father and the man were burned at the stake, her mother went uncured, dying a few days later. Shuffled around from place to place until she was too much of a burden for anyone and she was cast out on the streets.

Learning to pickpocket she managed to scrape by and not get tossed in the dungeons as a vagrant. Until one day she attempted to steal the coin purse of the wrong man. At that time Lord Edmund had not yet been tainted by his losses. He offered her a job doing menial tasks around his house and helping his wife to care for their children. His son was a few years older than her, a striking young man on the way to becoming a knight.  As they both grew into adulthood she began to fall in love with him. She stood proudly at the back of the hall with the other servants and watched as he knelt before the king to swear his vows of fealty.

Uther's death left the Edmund in a state of panic. Not long after, Emma felt a wave of joy upon hearing that the new king was going to marry a serving girl. She hoped that perhaps Geraint would find the same courage to ask a former street rat like her to be his bride.

But then, the betrayal came and Gwen, who Emma knew through sometimes working at the castle –- as all nobles were required to help supplement the staff to care for the palace -- was banished. Edmund flouted around his house stating boldly how he knew something like that would happen. Nothing should ever come of such an affair. As Geraint began moving up the ranks of knighthood he started distancing himself from Emma. Then, the city was taken over by Morgana.

Many people escaped and many died that day. Others like her simply tried to survive in the city, left behind by their employers in the chaos. Arthur took back his kingdom. The city was rebuilt and Gwen was back at the king's side. Emma felt her heart soar, hopeful that yet again she might have a chance with Geraint. She rarely saw him after that until one day he came riding back into Camelot from a tournament in a neighboring kingdom with a beautiful fair-headed maiden at his side. She was the daughter of an earl, and Geraint  had won her hand in the competition. * They looked at each other with love and Emma realized, despite the king and queen's arrangement, she would only ever be a servant.

She continued her service to Lord Edmunds family and Geraint's bride. Enid was a beautiful soul, inside and out and befriended everyone, including Emma. When word came that Geraint had fallen in battle, the entire family's world had come crushing down. Lord Edmund was already in a state over the changes Arthur and his base-born queen were trying to make before the king took his round table knights, including his son, and set out for battle. He would rant nightly about the circumstances and the changes taking place swearing that if Uther were alive then things would be much better.

Emma felt a sour taste in her mouth as Enid grieved for her fallen knight, unlike her father-in-law, Geraint's wife held no ill feelings against anyone for the outcome. The servant girl on the other hand empathized with her employer in his anger. She had been carefully following and eavesdropping as much as she could in the palace. As well as chatting up the manservant who served both the king and his newly named cousin, yet another lowly serf promoted beyond his station. For certain she was jealous of Merlin, who she had known before as the king's servant. When they brought back the ghastly head she reported as much as she was able to Edmund.

The plot was to capture the pale daughter of the new noble but then a mishap with a young pock-marked boy, recently hired by Lady Thea and eager to prove his loyalty sent all the careful planning down the sewer. However, that very evening she managed to overhear a conversation she was sure would benefit their cause.

She was looking for George again, this time to invite him out for a drink. The man was so oblivious to any of her more subtle advances, that it was time for her to step up her game. Merlin and the queen had no idea someone was listening as they made their way down the halls. Nothing they said was concrete, but Emma was smart enough to put two and two together when Merlin asked the queen if Arthur told her about Cai's squire. Gwen's reaction spoke volumes and Emma was quick to pass the information on to her employer.

She knew he had taken the suspicions to another Lord who hated the changes with a passion, although his son was among the survivors from the battle, he came back with stories of sorcery, dragons, and power that spoke strongly of why King Uther had sought to rid the world of it all in the first place. His son set out to take care of the problem, he was going to lure the squire into a trap, but then a young green upstart of a knight unwittingly interfered and accidently injured the boy in the heat of battle.

Upon their return, and also that of the king with the head that was supposed to have been taken care of, everything went to hell. Emma knew she would never have had a chance to be with the young knight that captured her heart, but she had hoped she could help facilitate the revenge on those that took him away from her. All her expectations fell with the headsman's axe.

She remained in the employment of the family, as Arthur had graciously ordered the family title and holdings to be passed to Geraint and Enid's infant son when the boy came of age and the young mother was to be the executor until that time. Thinking Emma as a loyal friend, she kept the girl on, although most of her work now was in the palace kitchens. It was nearly a week after Yule*[1] when the girl was asked to take food to the dungeons for the few nobles that remained there, as Arthur had felt their punishment should be confinement instead of death, that Emma was given the opportunity for vengeance that she so desperately desired.

Emma brought the tray of food to Lady Thea's cell and the woman, desperate for companionship asked her to stay while she ate. After a few more times of bringing food to the cells, the conversation between the two women soon began to turn to conspiracy. Thea could have cared less about any of the political upheaval; her only concern was the son who had disappeared after being marked for what seemed to be a slow death by poison. She was certain he had died as a result of the king's new view on magic, but not wanting to let the knowledge of that evil out; he had purposely hidden away her boy's body.

She bit back a groan of frustration as George jabbered on and on about his daily tasks, sadly none of it seemed consequential to Emma. Deep inside she felt a looming sense of dread that getting any real information out of him concerning Sir Leon, if he knew himself, would take longer than she might be able to tolerate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The story of Geraint and Enid is another beautiful Arthurian tale that I couldn't help but squeeze into the fic, albeit vaguely and mostly just concerning how they came to each other.
> 
> *1 – Yule The winter solstice celebration on Dec 21st


	49. Shards

Long thin fingers lay flat on the dressing table. Even with the solidity of the thick hardwood underneath a tremble could still be seen from the tips and extending up into the arms. Clarissant's eyes were closed and her mouth was in a tight thin line while she breathed slowly, willing herself to remain calm.

She never thought she would see a day like this, when she was being prepared for her own wedding, again. This time was completely different; she just had to keep telling herself that. Guinevere had arranged for a maid to assist her, but the girl kept jabbering on to the point where Clarissant felt that she was ready to scream. Dismissing the servant, Gwen came in and with skilled hands helped get her dressed and did her hair up.

"I can't do this," Clarissant whispered.

"What was that?" The queen asked curiously.

The brunette looked straight into her own reflection in the mirrored surface, "I just can't do this. Propriety says I'm still supposed to be mourning my last husband. Maybe it's too soon. What if I'm making a mistake and it all happens again? What if Percival changes like Guirom did once we're married?" She felt herself teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Deep in her heart, she knew Percival would never be like her late husband, but her heart wasn't in control right now as anxiety took hold of her senses.

Gwen was so kind in helping to arrange things from getting the dress, worthy of a princess tailored to arranging the flowers, daffodils and crocuses* barely starting to bloom. The king wanted a grand ceremony to celebrate the affair, followed by an even grander feast to show off the commander of his knights and the granddaughter princess of Lothian. She was told that morning that even her uncle Gareth, whom she'd never met, had arrived, as Lot was too ill to make the journey himself. Somehow in the whirlwind, Clarissant got swept away and didn't know how to pull back to herself. Even Gwaine, in his excitement failed to notice his sister becoming more withdrawn before the big day.

Try as she might, Gwen couldn't seem to get through to her. Offering her soft words that the woman didn't seem to hear and a gentle hug that caused her to flinch. Clarissant was sobbing and curling up in the chair, twisting the hem of her dress. The queen sighed sadly, "I'll go see if I can find your brother, shall I?"

Outside in the hall she ran into Merlin who had been sent to see what was keeping the bride on her big day. "I need to go find Gwaine or Percival or someone…" She scampered off down the corridor.

Merlin watched her go, wondering what was wrong, but she was already around the corner before he had a chance to ask. He turned back to the door and rapped gently. He could hear muffled sobs from within. Allowing himself entrance, he poked his head in, "My Lady, is everything alright?" Receiving no response, he began to worry and so he entered fully, closing the door behind him and spied her on the floor in between the dressing table and the wall. Clarissant had tucked herself as far back into the corner as she could willing herself to be as small and as unnoticeable as a mouse.

He moved carefully and sat down near her, "Lady Clarissant?" When she didn't acknowledge him, he pulled out a vial from a pocket and sat it down nearby. "This is from Alice, it'll help you calm down if you want it."

He licked his lips and tried to think of some way to get through to her. "You know you don't have to do this if you don't want to, I'm sure Percival would understand. There's a whole mess of people out there that couldn't care one way or another, just as long as they get to eat. And let me tell you, it's considerably less than the crowd I had to deal with." He noticed as the sobs subsided a bit and she began listening to him.

"I suppose I was lucky. I didn't have time to be nervous when the prat decided to parade me out in front of all of Camelot when he acknowledged me. I think if he did give me a warning I would have stolen a horse and run as fast I could away from here."

She sniffled loudly, but asked quietly, "Why a horse when you could have called a dragon?"

Merlin chuckled, "Because I was coming off about a week of no real sleep, seasickness, and dehydration when he sprung it all on me. Thinking clearly was certainly not one of my strong points. Although the way Arthur says it, thinking was never one of my attributes."

Clarissant nodded somberly, "Guirom used to tell me the same thing."

"Guess we're sort of alike in that way then," He seemed surprised at himself for saying that.

She snorted softly, "I doubt we could compare notes about it. From the first night we were together he hit me."

Merlin rolled his eyes, "First time I met Arthur I had my arm almost twisted off, then I was thrown in the dungeons."

A small spark began to flare inside her, "Do you know how it feels to be told you're stupid and worthless every day?"

He nodded able to empathize, "Yeah for the last decade I've been told I'm an idiot, simpleton, worthless. Been thrown in the stocks and publically humiliated."

"Beaten, had things constantly thrown at you and screamed at because you somehow 'made' him do it."

"Oh I hear ya. See this scar here," he pointed to an old wound where his neck and jaw met behind his ear, "That was from a goblet because I was supposedly late with his breakfast. Again. Even though it was at the same time every day.

Her brown eyes narrowed as they continued on in the game of one-upmanship, "I had to dress him like a child, and if I didn't do it fast enough, or there was…"

"…the slightest hint of a wrinkle in the shirt?"

She nodded, her mouth opened in surprise. "Perfectly cooked food thrown on the floor when you were left starving because you said something to make him loose his appetite?"

Merlin inhaled sharply, "No… but I doubt if anything could make Arthur turn away from his food."

She had to chuckle; having witnessed the king's eating habits first hand.

"Have you ever had a full chamber pot dumped on you? And I don't just mean poured out over your head, but slammed down on it, followed by a fist hitting the bottom to make sure it was on well enough and then, without being given a chance to clean up yourself, be told that you had to go muck the stables because it was your fault there was a dripping mess on the floor?"

Clarissant bit her lip, trying to contain her laughter at the image presented by the powerful man sitting next to her.

"Follow that by having to carry his armor everywhere because he couldn't decide whether he wanted to go hunting or spar with the knights. Drop it accidently in the mud since you had NO sleep the night before and forgot to eat breakfast. Then on top of that he stepped in horse dung so took off his boot and chucked it at me, ordering me to clean it right then and there!"

"I have a hard time imagining you going through all that. You are a man who can command dragons and defeat magical armies."

"Who has been a servant to the biggest clot pole in a kingdom where, until recently, I would have been burned at the stake just for being born."

She was utterly amazed at how parallel their lives seemed to be. "At least you never had to sleep with him."

He sniggered, "He has to sleep on the right side or I get elbowed continuously…actually I get elbowed, and backhanded, either way, but he still insists I be on the left." He noticed the look on her face, completely caught off guard by his words. He explained that it was while they were running from slavers and she smiled, nodding in understanding.

Merlin pushed the vial closer towards her. She took it with a heavy sigh before drinking it, "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he knew it was for more than just the tonic.

"So why did you stay?" Clarissant asked after a pause. "You could have gone anywhere, escaped from it all, it's not like you were married to him."

He thought for a moment before answering, "I was told it was my destiny to be at his side. Despite all that he is a good man, a good friend, and a great king. To him it was horseplay, rarely anything more malicious than that, although at times it didn't feel like it. But I was able to get out of the castle, work for Gaius and knew there was a purpose behind it all that I was accomplishing. So I suppose that's where  _we_  differ. Why did you?"

She smiled sadly, "I guess I didn't feel I had anywhere to go, and it was what my life was supposed to be. That maybe in a previous life I'd done some great wrong that deserved it." Another few moments passed as they each examined their own thoughts, "What about now? I mean I know you now have status, but is it still your destiny or is there something else you would rather be doing with your life?"

Merlin sucked on his teeth trying to find the answer. Was it still his calling to be beside Arthur? The unification of Albion was becoming a reality. Magic had been accepted back into the land. Only the quest ahead of them seemed left to make sure Arthur lived, after that, he deliberated with himself, if it might be possible to consider that his destiny had been fulfilled. His thoughts went to the raven-haired beauty that caused him so much inner turmoil. Part of him longed for her deeply, another piece worried that their respective temperaments would always create strife. He wondered if Aithusa was healing well. His mother had not been a happy camper when she arrived back from Gawant to find her 'granddaughter' had been absconded by another dragon and taken away without so much as a goodbye.

His guilt for that action ate at him and he pondered on how much of everything that happened was due to his lack of communication skills. He could talk a good game well enough, but what did he ever actually say that was more than just him rambling on to fill the silent spaces. Was it really his lot in life anymore to put Arthur first, even before the feelings of his own mother, or the welfare of a girl who had become his child, or for that matter his own wellbeing? Sadly he knew the answer, even if he refused to admit it to himself. Perhaps he would reevaluate it all once he was certain of the king's health.

"I'll have to think on that." He stood up and brushed down his trouser legs before holding out his hand to assist Clarissant. "And so what is your destiny today, My Lady? Shall I brave the hordes crying out in hunger because they're getting tired of waiting and tell them to go on ahead and feast? Or just tell them all to bugger off and deal with it because you're getting married to a good man who wants nothing more than to protect and love you?"

Clarissant was a little surprised at the sudden change. She had seen the emotions play over his face as he considered her question. The bride didn't dwell on it though, she stood tall and smiled, "Yes, I think I will choose the latter. It may be much grander than I had wished for, but it is  _my_  day, isn't it?"

At that moment Gwaine came bursting through the door in a panic. He skidded to a halt when he saw the smile on his sister's face. Spinning around to face the queen who trailed after him, "I thought you said there was a crisis?"

Gwen looked between Merlin and Clarissant before facing Gwaine, "There was! When I left she was having a nervous breakdown."

Clarissant moved towards the queen, "I'm so sorry to have frightened you so, My Lady."

"Frightened her nothing?" Her twin spat out, "what about me?"

With a wink towards Merlin she told her brother, "Oh, bugger off, Gwaine." She turned and looked at herself in the mirror, her lips pinched as she evaluated her state. She nearly lost her nerve again as she spied the smeared coal from her eyes that had now stained her dress.

"Hold still," the warlock said quietly. Without touching her, he spoke a few soft words and moved his hand down in front of her face.

When she looked again, the dark smudges were gone and her dress was clean. She gasped in delight, "Thank you!"

He smiled and turned towards the door where Gwen and Gwaine were still standing.

"And why have you never done that for me?" the queen asked with half-mocking accusation.

Merlin looked at his feet guiltily, unable to come up with an answer.

"Oh Merlin!" Clarissant called out, "I almost forgot I have something for you."

He glanced back as she pulled a scrap of cloth out of a drawer. He could sense a hint of power inside whatever it was she had wrapped and in her hand. She held it out for him and he took it tentatively. Unfolding the cloth he saw inside a small shard of a stone that seemed to have metal melted around it and then strung on a silk cord. The pulsing magic felt familiar, although seemed a mere echo of what it once was.

"When you all found me, Morgause had this stone that controlled the wyvrens and the other lady."

"I remember being told about it, but I figured it was lost with the explosion." He didn't know what to say to her as he looked on the stone pendant.

"It was… but I went back in and found this one piece. When Gwaine and I were young I used to force him to help me make jewelry with shells and odd shaped rocks we'd find on the shores. I'd go to the blacksmith and in exchange for a piece of the jewelry they would let me use some of the cast off that would fall on the ground and get contaminated to re-melt and pour around the stones," She said explaining her process.

Gwaine chuckled, "I remember that. It was you that kept us fed on many a night with it." His dark eyes took on a faraway look as he recalled those days. Shaking himself from it he perked up, "Well that was then, this is now, and if we keep your groom and the king waiting any longer you may end up with a tavern brawl instead of a wedding." He offered his sister his arm and led her out of the room.

Merlin paused offering his arm to the queen with a warm smile, unknowing if she had yet forgiven him for his refusal and practically acting like a spooked horse the way he had bolted out of her room.

She sighed; her arms crossed over her chest defensively and studied him for a moment before shaking her head with a chuckle. "I think this is the longest I have ever stayed cross with you."

"I think so too. I don't like you being so mad at me."

"No," she said linking her palm around his bicep, "me either, but perhaps we can discuss this all more after the wedding."

* * *

 

Percival stood near the dias just a step below the king and Geoffrey. Since the planning had begun he felt awkward and considered a few times just asking his bride to run away and find a village cleric to marry them. He tried to tell the king that this was too much, not just for Clarissant, but for himself, a simple boy that had been raised in the woods with only his mother, to deal with. Now as he shifted his weight back and forth, anxious about whether she would even show up for the ceremony, he couldn't help but regret not putting his foot down.

He jumped slightly as the doors were opened and Merlin came in with the queen on his arm. They moved to their appointed positions. The doors opened again and he felt his breath leave him. His heart was drumming against the inside of his chest when he saw her, on her brother's arm. Her dark brown hair was piled in ringlets that cascaded around her face. The sunlight from the windows was catching the waves and highlighting them with a reddish tint.

It was like a dream as she walked towards him. Soon they were standing in front of the stairs and everyone else seemed to disappear around them.

* * *

Emma swallowed her disgust as she moved around the room, refilling drinks and plates of food; taking leftovers back to the kitchens and cleaning up spills from careless nobles. It was yet another noble marrying a commoner that wasn't her. She took some solace that her plans with Lady Thea were coming together; she just needed to find out where the body of Sir Leon was before she could act. With the king's party planning on departing in less than a fortnight, she knew she was running out of time.


	50. Mirror, Mirror

"But I don't get it? Why do I have to stay here tonight?"

Merlin was feeling truly exasperated. The young man was very much reminding him of Arthur around the time they first met. Demanding, arrogant, supercilious…He was trying not to lose his temper and begin calling the little prat names, "I've already explained it to you. You were at the ceremony today, Sir Percival and Lady Clarissant just got married."

The six year old sat staring at the warlock with his mouth open and a bored look on his face, "I KNOW that. But why can't I go with them?"

"Tonight is a special night for them, I told you that."

"Yeah…" he refused to accept that answer.

"They would like to ... be together …  _alone_  tonight."

"How can they be alone if they're together?"

"They want to spend some 'adult' time with each other."

"You mean making babies?"

Merlin paused and stared at the boy incredulously, "Um… maybe?"

"My mum was always doing that, and I still got to sleep in my own bed." The boy pouted and went to change into his nightclothes.

Perhaps it was growing up with only a mother in Merlin's case, or that the boy had spent most of his life ignored in a gypsy camp. But something between the worlds was certainly different in this aspect.

Initially he thought Gwen would want to take care of the boy for the evening to allow the newlyweds a chance to get to know each other. Then Arthur had other ideas, encouraged by the wine he was drinking and the atmosphere of the celebration, and he soon made off with his queen to somewhere more private. Merlin was at the same time thankful he didn't have to try and stumble his way through a discussion about the sensitive subject he knew was coming with Gwen, but when he realized that Arthur had somehow talked him into taking care of the boy, he felt even more nervous. A dragon he could order if need be.  Aside from that, Aithusa was easier to converse with; more mature in her thought process -- most of the time. Haddy was continuously asking the same questions over and over. It didn't matter how Merlin answered, the boy continued to inquire in the exact same manner and it was driving the warlock insane.

About the only thing Merlin was sure of at this moment, was that he was in no rush for any real kids of his own.

* * *

 

Time passed quickly and soon they were beginning to ready everything for the journey north. Gwen was still set on accompanying them. Although, on better terms than before, Merlin still dodged her questions about why he refused to help her magically. The only reply he would give was that she needed to talk to Arthur about it.

He felt completely uncomfortable even thinking about the circumstances surrounding the king's birth, especially after the extra bit of enlightenment he had received in the grove. Merlin attempted to broach the subject with Arthur, but the king played his oblivious card, though the warlock could tell his cousin was purposely trying to avoid it. He understood why Gwen was having such a difficult time getting her husband to open up, but this was one issue he would not interfere in. Destiny or not, he wanted no part of their bedroom affairs.

Clarissant was coming along, as well.  After meeting Gareth and hearing from him firsthand what happened on that fateful night with her mother, she felt she was finally ready to meet King Lot. She owed Morgana a visit in exchange for the gifts. Percival was ecstatic to have his new wife riding along side. Gwaine on the other hand was a bit apprehensive. Although, Merlin thought it might have more to do with the fact he had yet to see any retaliation for the proposal prank he had conned his now brother-in-law into.

A messenger had been sent to Queen Annis.  With her kingdom still in the midst of war, she had sent back permission for Galahad to accompany them all.

_It will be of great value to my grandson to learn where our allied kingdoms lay and meet the royalty he might one day need to call upon._ Her response stated. If all went well, as it looked like Caerleon was sure to be victorious, then Annis would be on a ship later that season heading to the northern bay and retrieve him. Haddy was over the moon about the idea of riding on a vessel he'd only barely heard of.

Sir Hector was to be left in charge of the defenses while they were gone, and others had been appointed temporary positions to keep the kingdom running smoothly in the monarchy's absence. Arthur fretted about like a mother hen, worrying if he was making the right decision. In the end it came down to two factors. One – he was Arthur, he  _had_  to go, and two- under the circumstances Gwen wasn't about to give up her husband for so long on a quest that might very well end in failure, however low-key they all tried to play it.

Merlin desired to show his mother the fort in the north that was now his, but Hunith had been spending more and more time in Gawant with Lord Godwyn and in the end, she persuaded her son to go without her. She was too old for such a journey, she claimed, but she made him promise to send that girl of his to visit her nana once the king's party reached Snowdonia. Secretly Merlin suspected that the two had already tied the knot. He wanted for her to be happy, but he felt a pang of childish jealousy.  For so long it had only been the two of them, even though his life for the past eleven years had been in Camelot.  He was sure that played a part in her decision to keep it from him.

In total twenty knights, including Percival, Gwaine, and Cai, as well as a myriad of guards and a few servants, would accompany the Royal Party on their journey, which would take them around the eastern side of Ismere and up into Lothian. The plan was to stop and visit with King Lot and recommit Camelot to the recent treaty in the likely possibility that Gaheris was named king. According to Gareth, his older brother had already -- in a bold and surreptitious maneuver -- begun trying to make peace with Bayard of Mercia, as their father's health declined. However, the King of Mercia refused to sign anything while Lot was still alive.

Poor George was torn. He recalled telling Merlin that he would gladly travel with the man to be his servant, however that was before Gilli came into the picture.  And, the prudish manservant had found himself with a young lady to fraternize with. Two days before the main caravan was to depart George was standing in the courtyard watching as Merlin, Arthur, and Cai -- along with Cai's squire and Gilli -- rode off.

Emma came out of a servant's portal just in time to see the queen moving back inside to finish her own preparations after the king left. "What's this? The king going hunting before leaving seems a bit odd," She said as she approached George.

"Indeed that would be. But no, they are planning on a detour to Sir Cai's estate and then circle back to join the rest on their travels." He sighed wistfully, and turned to her with longing, "I am still undecided as to if I should go with them."

The servant girl appeared not to hear the last part, focusing on her own curiosity of what might be so important that the king felt he needed to escort a knight and the boy, who she now knew was his son, on a side journey. "That's kind of them to take the boy to see his mum before such travels, but highly unusual," she stated, fishing for information.

George gave her a tight-lipped smile, "There are other issues they are taking care of which I am not at liberty to discuss. Although, with their departure, I appear to have a bit of a respite.  Would you care to join me for lunch?"

She snapped her façade back in place quickly and offered him a coy smile, "Oh, I have so much to do."

"Perhaps I can assist?"

Her eyes widened, "No, dear George, go enjoy your break. I will speak with you later this evening." Emma's mind was spinning and her heart was pounding hoping that she wouldn't need to play the doting girlfriend much longer. He nodded and leaned forward to kiss her cheek, she deftly turned away with a giggle, "Not in public, it's too soon, darling."

He sighed, "You are correct, it would be rather improper. Forgive me."

She nodded and had to contain herself as to not run screaming from him in her disgust. She turned and made her way back to the service entrance. It was almost time to take food to the prisoners, and though it technically wasn't her duty today, she had no doubt that she could convince the scheduled maid to change days with her.

* * *

 

Finishing the rounds, she came upon Lady Thea's cell. It was kept cleaner than most of the others, as the king had granted the woman a bit more privilege under the circumstances.

As with many, her family was very loyal to King Arthur and though hesitant at first, with Leon's urging they accepted the proposed changes in policy concerning magic. But then, came the day when her son's nearly lifeless body had been brought back to Camelot. The woman mourned for her son, who was trapped in some sort of magical spell. It was explained that the magic was keeping him alive.  However, Thea wondered if it wasn't magic that cursed him in the first place.

After the king had left for Mercia she went to the palace to see her son, only to find that his body was gone.

Emma had found the lady crying softly in an alcove and soon led her to Lord Edmund. Reluctant though she was to move against the king, Thea's heart was broken and she finally agreed to help their cause if it would mean some sort of closure for finding Leon.

Most of the cohorts had been sentenced to death. Many times Thea almost wished she had been among those, but the queen herself spoke up on the woman's behalf. Life in the dungeon cell was anything but pleasant for a lady used to a more luxurious treatment. Emma brought in the tray and sat down to visit, as she did so often, even garnering the thanks of Queen Guinevere, whose own mother had been Lady Thea's maid until her passing. Casting a glance outside the cell to be sure they were not going to be overheard, Emma sat down excitedly with the noble woman.

"I have news for you M'lady. I think I know where they took your son," she started, barely able to contain herself.

For Thea this was the first ray of hope in what had become a very bleak existence. She sat forward anxiously waiting for the serving girl to continue.

"The royals ride out for the north in two days, but the king a few others left early to take care of some secret 'issues' at Sir Cai's estate."

Thea let out the breath she was holding. It made sense to her now and she explained it to the girl, "We were very close with Sir Cai's parents when the children were young. Leon and he were nearly inseparable, even being knighted together. It was only after their father passed and Cai returned home that the boys grew apart." She stared at her frail dirty hands folded in her lap, "If I recall correctly, the king reinstated Cai's knighthood before they set off for Mercia last fall. "

"I remember…" Emma stopped as a guard passed by the cell. She waited until he was gone before continuing, "My master mentioned something about them taking a wagon when they departed last fall and how odd it seemed." The girl thought for a moment before asking, "Do you think they mean to take your son north with them?"

"How would I begin to know the thoughts of this king?" Lady Thea spat out harshly.

Emma recoiled slightly., fearing she had pushed the woman too far. "What would you have me do, M'lady?"

Thea's eyes were filled with unshed tears. She took a breath and thought for a moment.  Before Leon disappeared, the city had been filled with visitors from neighboring kingdoms who had arrived for the feast and the tournament. She had been speaking with another wife of a lord who held an estate outside of the city, closer to one of the borders, and explaining her son's condition. Thea hoped that by some miracle the other woman might have knowledge of someone outside the realm who could help. The conversation went nowhere, but shortly after an old woman approached her and offered Thea a hand mirror, saying if he lady ever wanted an alternative method to saving her son, all she had to do was to speak into the mirror.

Initially the lady had scoffed at the beggar woman for the offer, but the persistence of the vagrant had Thea accepting the looking glass simply to be rid of her. "Go to my home.  Ask my husband, Lord Gavin, to allow you entrance on my behalf. There is a hand-mirror. I believe it is magical that may be able to help us…" She then explained exactly where it was in her room. Emma didn't need to be told not to let on that the item held mystical properties, it was just going to be a simple request for a personal item to help ease the lady's suffering.

 


	51. Between the Words

Lisanor had spent the better part of her day searching through the cupboards and the pantry, taking stock of what was left over from the winter. Surprisingly, even with the extra mouths of the druids and sorcerers that helped to guard the temple, there was still quite a bit left. The magical people had brought much of their own supplies in preparation, and with Cai and Loholt gone, it left only Bedivere and herself to worry about. Although, the early spring and mild winter brought fresh baby greens to eat, until spring fully came, it was better to be safe than sorry where food was concerned.

She breathed in the silence of the house and thought about what she wished to accomplish in the coming weeks. With the help of the druids her yearly garden was already tilled and weeded, ready for planting. Their small herd of goats had more kids drop this year than they would need, especially if it was going to be the same people for the next year. So she began making plans to have them sold at the market.

Bedivere was out in the forest hunting for the day. They didn't need the added meat, but it gave her stubborn, headstrong brother something to do. More than likely he'd set up some sort of target out in the woods and was practicing his sword play. He had never been one for keeping track of the goings on in the household.  Typically that fell to Cai, and then to her when her eldest brother had gone back to Camelot. She felt her eyes moisten thinking of the Cai and her son, wondering if or when she might see them again. It was the same thought that played through her mind many times a day, no matter how busy she tried to keep herself. Occasionally, they would stop by while on patrol, and she elated in those precious moments, however each time she saw her baby boy it seemed he had grown; either taller like his uncles, or in his maturity.

When they arrived home, just after Samhain, it was without a patrol. Loholt regaled her with stories of his new friend who had been turned into a pig and the search for the healer woman. When he mentioned the man he had defended himself against, Lisanor shuttered visibly and shot her brother a dark glance. Thirteen was far too young, in her opinion, for her son to have committed such an act. The topic was dropped and she realized that her baby was truly becoming a man.

She asked him how things were coming along with Arthur and he happily showed her the bruises he'd received in the latest training sessions. The king had taken a personal interest in teaching him swordplay, but beyond that there didn't appear to be much of a relationship. Later, Cai explained that although the queen was a kind soul, there was a sadness and longing to her when she looked at Loholt and it made the boy feel uncomfortable in her presence.  He would rather avoid her, and by extension Arthur.

Nearly every fortnight Merlin would stop in as well to check on Sir Leon, he never stayed long. He looked as if he was more comfortable with himself each time and the power of the temple didn't appear to have the same effect on him as it first had.

When they spoke it was usually of trivial things. She often wondered if she had been too rash in turning her back on the dark-haired man with the bright smile and twinkling eyes. Yet each time, if the conversation turned to something brushing on magic beyond the natural abilities of the druids, she would realize that it was all for the best. The guardians, without meaning to, didn't help the situation when they talked of Lord Emyrs and told the various stories most had learned growing up, passed on by their elders through each generation of his destiny. She often wondered about the strange girl that accompanied him, but never felt comfortable asking him about her.

Most days she would spend time in the small temple sitting with Leon and speaking to him. At first it felt awkward, but as the months past, it became a comfortable habit. Even if he never responded, she didn't feel as alone as she did in her own house.

The sound of horses outside drew her attention back to the present and out of her daydreaming. The task of going through the pantry forgotten as she rushed to the door, hoping that her son was on the other side.

* * *

 

The king sat with the man he always considered his most loyal and bravest knight. One time, when nearly everything had been lost, it was Leon's words that secured Arthur's confidence. "I know you said you would ride into the mouth of hell for me. I hope where ever your spirit is, it is more pleasant than that."

He cleared his throat, unsure of how much he should say, or how little. "I just want you to know I could never thank you for the gift you've given. No matter what happens, I hope you can somehow understand that it is because of you that everything has changed. Without your selflessness, I don't know what would have happened to Camelot. Merlin knows what we need to do to save us both. But even if that fails, the time I've been granted to facilitate some long overdue changes in the laws and policy has been a blessing. As well as the time I've had with Guinevere, and to meet my son. Guinevere misses you, we all do…"

* * *

 

Dark hair hung down to just around the jaw line, framing a face with green eyes that were filled with unreadable thoughts. His breath came shallow as he stood in the doorway to the temple. At one time this place had been his sanctuary, it held a powerful magic inside that had kept it sacred for generations. Now it felt almost foreign to him, a place beyond the reality he knew. He could see the bed set up inside where Leon's body lay, as it had been months before, still as death itself. He ached to reach out and take the pale hand that rested, unmoving on top of the blanket that covered the man's body. Although he knew, even if the man did awaken, he still wouldn't be able to grasp his hand. If not for society, but also for the words he had spoken.

A stab of jealousy coursed silently through him as he watched the king sitting next to Leon, speaking softly to the man.

He felt someone come up behind him and an arm wrapped around his. Cai smiled down at his sister and leaned to place a kiss on her head. "If what you all are saying is true, then it shouldn't be too much longer," She offered in consolation.

The knight shrugged. "Even so, Lisa, how do I apologize for all that I've said and done to hurt him? And aside from that little sister, it cannot be. Laws of the realm may have changed with some things, but on this the rules of society have not."

"We'll think of something, I'm sure. Just do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Take Bedivere with you.  He has been driving me crazy!" She requested half-smiling through her clenched teeth. "The druids and the Catha offer enough protection for us."

Cai laughed. All three siblings were very close to each other, but his younger brother and Lisa were as different from one another as night and day. He often mused through the winter if each time he came back to visit he might find one of them bound and gagged if they got sick of each other. "I'll see what I can do.  If what Merlin was saying is true, we're going to need all the help we can get."

"Oh?" she queried.

Her older brother took a breath and stiffened slightly. He didn't want to worry her. "It's just going to be a long trip and we have little to go on for what we need to find."

She looked like she didn't believe him. "I understand you would rather I not fret like a mother hen, but you are taking my son."

"And I will watch out for him every step of the way, I promise.  Plus, with Bedivere around you know for certain no one would dare lay a hand on Loholt.  Come, let's get back to the house and find something for everyone to eat." " He wrapped his arm around her and smiled.  As far as he knew, he was the only one who had been privy to what they would be facing when the party reached the north.

_After the trip to Southron, he and Merlin's friendship had grown, though each had separate duties to attend to and rarely got a chance to sit down together. The warlock confessed to him one evening that it was refreshing to travel with Cai. He was one of the few who seemed to understand at least the basics of the magic and the toll it could take, without the sometimes patronizing tone that Gaius used, the evasion and joking of Gwaine, or the obliviousness of Arthur. Plus, never having known him as the bumbling servant with a secret gift, the knight was able to see just the man in front of him, not the façade he had previously worn. Cai, while at the same time accepting that it was Merlin's destiny to serve and protect the king, also challenged him and reminded him of the world beyond. Recently, it appeared that something had finally gotten through to the powerful sorcerer, although he didn't confide in Cai who or what it was. While sharing drinks in the tavern he was shocked to hear Merlin pondering on the possibility of leaving Camelot for a while once the business of the Cauldron was taken care of._

_He revealed to the knight some of the details about a vision he'd received and of the two choices he was facing. He trusted Cai and respected the man enough to tell him about how he saw Loholt laying beneath a great cat as Arthur battled, but he couldn't tell if the boy was simply unconscious or otherwise. This alone nearly prompted Cai to leave his nephew behind, however Merlin warned that by doing such a thing would be certain to expedite fate and possibly bring about something worse._

_Loyal to a fault as he was to Arthur, it mildly shocked Cai to hear the man actually considering putting it all at risk to face an army at the gates of his keep. When the knight questioned him about it, Merlin tried to brush it off that it was because of Aithusa. Cai didn't buy it and pressed further until the warlock confessed that it was Morgana he was concerned about and more specifically the darkness he felt building within her. He felt he may have found a way to counter it, but didn't want to say more until they reached Snowdonia._

_Cai just smirked. "You really care about her, don't you?"_

_Merlin looked away and shrugged. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch the people you care most about suffer or die because destiny has decided they were in the way? To choose between the woman you love and the good of all, again?"_

" _I might know something about it," He stated blandly, garnering a curious look from his companion. Cai really had not meant to say it out loud and he cursed himself for it as soon as the words left his mouth._

_The younger man studied Cai for a bit in silence, a hidden thought process flitting through the man's mind. Realization dawned on him and Merlin's eyes shot wide, "Wait ...You and …" Merlin shook his head and looked away. Then, he glanced at the knight skeptically from the corner of his eye, "Is that what the Red Dragon was talking about?"_

_Cai took a drink and refused to look at Merlin, fear and shame coursing through him._

_They sat for a few moments in silence while the noises of the tavern surrounded them. Finally, Merlin sat back and stared at his friend. "I know what it's like to have to keep something secret from everyone around you." The warlock smiled in understanding, silently letting Cai know that he would keep the knight's confidence on the mater, and finished his drink. Nothing more was said on the subject and the topic turned back to the coming journey._

 

* * *

 

Emma wasn't around for her evening appointment with George. When he did find her, she was curt and rude, and gave no explanation for her behavior. George clucked his tongue as he walked down the corridors towards his own quarters, pondering on the change. He had begun to grow fond of her, although something deep inside held him back from feeling anything more. Perhaps it was for the best, he mused, she really wasn't the type of woman he could have ever seen taking home to meet his mother. Thinking of his mother, he swallowed down the bile forming in his throat, he didn't know how he was going to explain that he'd suddenly decided to go with the royal party to Snowdonia. Someone needed to look after Bran for one, and he thoroughly enjoyed working for Lord Emyrs. Perhaps a simple letter, delivered a day, or maybe a few weeks after he had left…


	52. Memories

Gwen's feet were even and steady as she walked through the palace. A definite contrast to the flutter and anxiety her heart was feeling. She was born and raised in Camelot and had left only on very few occasions. Those times were typically to visit local lords around the kingdom since her coronation. Before that it had been to help out her friends or her brother when he was captured, and the few months she was exiled – which even then the farthest she went willingly was Ealdor. Now however, she was preparing to set off to,what in her mind felt like the end of the world.

Arthur and a few others had set out the day before, wanting to check on Leon before making the journey, and they planned to meet the main group on the road towards Lothian. She had yet to get him to sit down long enough for a serious conversation. As the season progressed she found herself putting off the inevitable confrontation while plans were being made for the travels. Now every detail had been taken care of, so Gwen found herself wandering to try and calm her nerves.

"M'Lady?" She heard a servant call out.

The queen turned around and waited for the girl to catch up.

"There is a merchant here looking for Lord Emyrs. Says he has something the lord ordered from him last fall."

She bit her lip; George was not going to be happy. He and Merlin had spent hours going through things to pack until Merlin had just what he wanted and it was organized in a way the servant felt would be best for unpacking, not realizing at that time George would decide to go as well. "Well, I was looking for something to do.  So, let's see what this man has, shall we?"

The servant girl had led the man into the small audience chamber before finding the queen. He bowed and then began unrolling a tapestry to show her. Gwen's hand went to her mouth to cover her gasp as she laid eyes on it. "Thank you, I will make certain it gets to Lord Emyrs," She gave the man a generous tip for bringing this in such a timely manner before dismissing him. Upon seeing the delicate embroidery, an idea struck her. The queen turned to the serving girl. "Take this to George, and then I would like you and him to meet me in the upper west hall overlooking the courtyard as soon as you can.  Tell him we might need a couple other servants, as well."

The girl rolled up the tapestry and scampered off to do the queen's bidding. Gwen wasted no time heading to her chambers to retrieve a key to a long forgotten door.

George and the others were already in the hallway when she arrived. "Follow me, please. I realize we don't have much time.  However, this is something I feel needs to be addressed. Also, we might need another cart and driver for the journey tomorrow." She walked to a doorway that had remained locked for many years. It opened with a creaking sound, sending dust into the air inside.

Stepping inside memories assailed her and Gwen thought back to the last time she had entered these quarters. It had been years, as evidenced by the cobwebs that hung from every surface. The window glass she had once cleaned until not a spot remained was clouded and filthy, barely allowing the sunlight through.

At one time these had been Morgana's personal chambers. After she had taken the throne with her sister, and then was subsequently defeated, Uther -- though his mind and health had begun to fail him -- had ordered Gwen to seal off the chambers. To her knowledge, even when Morgana returned at the head of the Southron forces with Agravaine at her side, the door hadn't been opened since that day.

She thought about the last time she had seen Morgana...

" _What did I do to make you hate me so much?"_

_The other woman, with a madness in her eyes paused for a moment. During that brief second Gwen felt an internal battle had taken place within Morgana, "It's not what you did; it's what you're destined to do! I'm sorry, Gwen, but I can never let that happen!"*_

No, not the last time, she thought to herself as her eyes scanned the room. It was when Mithian had arrived requesting aide for her father against Odin that Morgana was disguised as an elderly servant woman.  Although the queen was unaware of the ruse until Arthur and the rest returned.

Two nights after their return, Arthur called the meeting that completely changed their world. It was then that Merlin finally confessed to his part in keeping Camelot safe over the years. She could still recall the tensions in the room that night as the two men stared down one another. It seemed so long ago, though barely a year had passed.

Then, Merlin was sent off on a quest of discovery with only Gwaine for companionship. Arthur and the others followed when they received word Morgana had once again begun plotting. Upon their return Arthur told her of what transpired.

All these past years ... to think that it had not been Morgana at all made complete sense. Gwen had known the king's ward since she was twelve. She knew that it was after Tom, her father, had died that the raven-haired noble started becoming truly jaded against the king and eventually Camelot. The nightmares had plagued Morgana, and the magic within began to release in unexpected ways.

Guinevere was apprehensive about seeing her again. On one hand she was looking forward to meeting her oldest friend, on the other was all the heartache that the kingdom suffered under Morgana's reign of terror. She was startled out of her reverie when George cleared his throat. "Sorry," she apologized and took a deep breath, "These were Lady Morgana's chambers. Since she is banished from Camelot, and I will be visiting her, I thought perhaps to make her exile a bit more comfortable by taking some of her personal things with us."

George tsked as he wandered around the room mentally taking an inventory while deftly avoiding the hanging cobwebs. "Furniture and all, My Lady?"

She chewed on the side of her finger, hand on her hip in a stance that had  _almost_  been trained out of her. "No," she sighed, realizing there wasn't enough time to take everything, nor would Arthur approve of such an undertaking when she was scheduled to depart in the morning. "Check the armoires, chests, and drawers. If any of the dresses survived in good condition, let's pack them up, as well as her jewelry and many of the smaller personal items."

The servants nodded. George immediately took charge and set one to cleaning and opening the windows to release the stuffiness, thus making their work easier. Another was sent to gather a few more hands to bring up travel chests and cloth to pack some of the more delicate items in. "We will do our best to ensure everything is taken care of by the morning, My Lady."

Gwen smiled and squeezed his arm. "Thank you."

She carefully moved about the room and came upon a dresser with a metal container. It was an elongated hexagon of silver filigree with an ornate lid that sported an etched teardrop shaped finial. She remembered how much Morgana used to treasure the box. It was the last gift Gorlois had given Morgana on one of his visits home before he was sent off again to the battle front that cost him his life. Gwen had faith in the servants to pack what they could carefully, but this one item the queen would see to personally. She lifted it and felt a weight inside. Deciding to open it she saw a plain leather pouch. She debated internally about looking in the pouch, but if it was precious enough for Morgana to keep it in the box from her father, there was probably a reason. So instead of looking, Gwen took a few handkerchiefs from a drawer and packed them around the pouch before closing the lid and finding more cloth to carefully wrap the entire thing. Feeling satisfied, she took her treasure and exited the room, assured that the servants would do an admirable job with the rest of the items.

* * *

 

The royals had finally departed the city. Every last one of them. Emma grunted as she sat down on a stool outside the kitchens where she had just finished her duties of helping to clean up from a chaotic breakfast. In the two days since speaking with Lady Thea, the servant hadn't had so much as a moment to herself as the final preparations were made. After an all too brief respite, she pulled herself up. Hoping she wouldn't be too late in her errand as she made her way through the streets to the Lady's house.

Another servant showed her in to see Lord Gavin where she meekly presented her request on behalf of Lady Thea. That's when things didn't go quite as she had hoped. Since the sentencing Gavin had fallen into a bit of a depression, the whole family had actually. First hit with the news and then loss of their only son, then Lady Thea's imprisonment for her part in the failed coup; he had not been to see his wife at all. Gavin grunted and dismissed Emma, saying that he would personally see to it. She bit back a retort and curtsied cordially before being escorted from the house. The lord deciding to take the mirror personally to his wife only served to add an extra step in the plan. Now she would have to wait until it was delivered then obtain the item from the dungeons before using it as Lady Thea had instructed. Her anger was boiling as she left the residence and made her way back to the castle. The plan was not progressing as smoothly as she thought it would.

It was almost a week before Lord Gavin finally found his way to visiting, and afterwards when Emma brought Lady Thea her supper, she expected to have the mirror in hand shortly after. The servant girl felt her temper rise when she found out that Gavin forgot to bring the mirror. It took all her mental fortitude not to scream and throw Thea's food on the ground when in a seemingly sudden change of heart after her husband's visit the lady decided to heed her husband's urging and let the matter be for now. Through it all, he still had faith in the king's promise that their son would be returned to them, healed of the curse that ailed him. Emma couldn't give a hoot about Leon.  At this point all she saw was red -- more precisely the color of blood -- as she imagined them all, each and every one of the nobles she felt had wronged her, paying for the hell she considered her life.

 

* * *

 

The caravan made camp at the edge of the forest. Off in the distance the towers of Lot's castle could be seen just above the horizon. Tomorrow they would be within the castle walls. Clarissant stared at the peaks in wonder and fear. She felt strong arms wrap around her waist and leaned back into the powerful embrace, no longer jumping in fright when he came upon her. They had yet to officially consummate their marriage, a point on which she felt guilt and a strange sense of relief.

Percival had made it clear that it would only happen when she was ready, until then he was proud to just have her in his life. Their little family was perfect. Her husband, her brother, and Galahad made everything she had been through worth it. She knew that one day soon Haddy would return to his grandmother, but until then, she found herself cherishing every moment with the young boy.

"I think Haddy is about ready to fall asleep, but he wanted you to read him a story," He chuckled softly, "I think Prince Bran is hoping you'll read to him as well."

She smiled and turned in his arms. "And what of you my love, do wish a bedtime story as well?"

He kissed her gently and smiled, "Alas, I need to patrol around the camp first. Perhaps later?"

She set off back towards the caravan. She started to take out the book and then changed her mind. Perhaps tonight was a good evening to sing instead, something her own mother had turned to many times when she was nervous. As she began the tune, she became aware of two other voices around the fire quietly singing with her. First she looked to her brother, who smiled while remembering that it had been one of their mother's favorites. The other voice surprised her though and she found it was Gareth, who had stayed in Camelot after the wedding and chose to travel with the rest of them back to Lothian.

By the end of the tune, Haddy and even Loholt were sound asleep. Many others around were smiling at the light-hearted song. Gareth finally breached the silence that had fallen. "I remember my mother, your grandmother," he stated indicating the twins, "singing us that very song. I think I had forgotten about that over the years."

Clarissant felt a bit of her anxiety melt away about the coming day upon hearing that the song she sang had been passed down through the family she never thought she would get to know. Perhaps it was time to let it all go, she thought.

When Percival came to join her later, after he passed off the nightly watch to another guard, he expected to find her asleep. Instead she smiled at him and whispered in his ear. The astonishment on his face was priceless, and quietly he grabbed a bedroll before taking her hand as they crept off into the darkness away from the main camp.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Episode transcript: Sword in the Stone part 2


	53. Last Laugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAP. IX.-Arthur honours Augusel with the sceptre of the Scots; Urian with that of Mureif; and Lot with the consulship of Londonesia.
> 
> There were there three brothers of royal blood, viz. Lot, Urian, and Augusel, who, before the Saxons had prevailed, held the government of those parts. Being willing therefore to bestow on these, as he did on others, the rights of their ancestors, he restored to Augusel the sovereignty over the Scots; his brother Urian he honoured with the sceptre of Mureif; and Lot, who in time of Aurelius Ambrosius had married his sister, by whom he had two sons, Walgan and Modred, he re-established in the consulship of Londonesia, and the other provinces belonging to him. At length, when the whole country was reduced by him to its ancient state, he took to wife Guanhumara, descended from a noble family of Romans, who was educated under duke Cador, and in beauty surpassed all the women of the island.
> 
> Passage from The History of the Kings of Britain by Geoffrey of Monmouth
> 
> Edited and Translated by J.A. Giles, D.C.L.

  
They arrived with much fanfare into the main city of Lothian.  Merlin and Gwaine shared a look as they passed by the small gated door they had exited through the last time they were in this city.

"So, Merlin, do you think we'll be able to get the same room we had last time?"

The warlock bit down on his tongue, trying to keep from laughing too hard. "Well, it was rather cozy."

Gareth smirked slightly as he rode alongside. "I'm sure it can be arranged if you would really like."

"No, that's alright," Merlin stated immediately. The last place he wanted to be was in the dungeons of Lot's castle.  He still missed his favorite neckerchief that he'd had to dispose of after his stay. Although, he stopped wearing them altogether once Morgana referred to them a safety blanket.

They were surprised to see that it was Prince Gaheris, standing on the steps to meet them.  There was no sign of the formidable King Lot.  Gareth had mentioned that his father's health had been fading, but it hadn't fully set in until that moment.

Merlin glanced over at his friend.  Although Gwaine had initially hidden his heritage, after meeting his grandfather as an adult, instead of the impulsive and emotional teenager he had been, Gwaine had come to forgive Lot and even respect him.   He followed Gwaine's eyes to Clarrisant.  She was jittery and looked like she was ready to run at the first sign of conflict.   It wasn't often that people received a second chance to mend emotional wounds of the past.

After the initial greetings the group was shown to their individual guest quarters, where they each began settling in for what would be an all-to-brief visit.

* * *

 

Clarissant had just donned a clean dress after a much anticipated bath, when a knock sounded on her door. Percival was busy seeing to the knights and guards that had accompanied them, but she wished he was with her. She felt herself stiffen, knowing what it meant.

Moving to the door, she opened it a crack and saw her brother leaning against the frame.

"You ready?" He asked, appearing a bit nervous himself.

"No, but I suppose there's no time like the present." She picked up her shawl and threw it over her shoulders. It was time to meet her grandfather.

The room was dark and rank. The odor of the elderly, a stench of incontinence mixed with herbal smoke meant to ease the sickness permeated the chambers. She clung tightly to her brother's arm as they entered. Her eyes stung from the smoldering incense and she took a moment to adjust to the dim light. Clarissant could feel her brother tense next to her, at once uneasy for this was not how he expected to meet their grandfather. To go from the strong battle-hardened warrior to an infirm old man over the course of a winter was something he had not anticipated.

He felt his sister tighten her grip on his arm as the move deeper in the room. "Grandfather?" He called out quietly and saw the figure on the bed shift slightly. A servant in attendance sat next to him, he glanced up, nodded to Gwaine and then exited the room, leaving the king with his grandchildren.

Rheumy eyes looked over the pair for a moment before he smiled. "Ah, Teneu, you've come home at last."

"No, grandfather.  This is Clarissant," Gwaine corrected him.

Lot squinted as his befuddled mind caught up to the current time. "Oh, I see. Come closer," he bade them, "You look like your mother." A coughing spell began to rack his aged body.

It occurred to Gwaine that he didn't know how old Lot was and it surprised him to realize that the man was probably over eighty, at least. From what Gareth had told him, near midwinter a nasty cold had come upon the man and it was something his aging body, abused by years of battle, couldn't shake.

The three of them sat, speaking quietly about the past for a while, until it seemed Lot's strength was leaving him again. The roguish knight was having a hard time adjusting to the change and finally Clarissant suggested that he go get a drink. He nodded and patted his grandfather's hand before leaving the room. Outside in a nearly empty corridor he leaned against a wall and bit back his tears. Although having only known the man for such a short time, it was only now he realized how much of an impact Lot had made in his life. In his grandfather, Gwaine had found a kindred spirit and his heart was breaking to see the man in such a state.

Clarissant could feel her twin's pain, though she didn't know the old man in the bed enough to share in it fully. "I should probably let you rest," she said quietly.

"Nonsense, I'll rest soon enough. I should have taken you as well when you were children. What happened with your mother is my only regret in this life."   They sat in silence for a while before Lot finally asked, "Is there anything I can do for you before I leave this world, child?"

She chuckled, "No, I have everything I could have ever dreamed of at this moment."

"Oh, come now.  Let me spoil my granddaughter in some way. Is there anyone who has wronged you that I could send an army after?"

Clarissant shook her head and then paused, "The only one I wish revenge on is my brother right now."

Lot's eyes narrowed. "What did he do?"

She told him about the pranks and the proposal, not expecting anything but perhaps to give Lot some amusement.

He stared off into the dimly lit room, obviously thinking. "Have the servant call for my sons, and King Arthur as well, perhaps his cousin could be of use, too." There was an ornery glint in his old eyes and Clarissant felt a bit apprehensive, but did as he asked.

Soon they were joined in the room by the others.

Merlin's nose wrinkled and he felt his eyes stinging as he entered. The training he received under Gaius began to kick in. "Does your head hurt, or just your eyes?" He asked Lot, garnering questionable looks from the others.

"Both," Lot stated, a bit unsure.

"Is the pain more in the front, top, or back?"

"…what does that have to do with anything?"

Without invitation, Merlin moved towards Lot and began checking him over. Then, he began grumbling about barbaric stone-age medicine in the same manor his mentor would have. Sniffing the braziers with incense he nearly gagged at the compounded mixture before snuffing them out. He walked over to the farthest window, opened the curtains to let some natural light in, and then unlatched the window.

Lot's own physician came in and nearly had a heart attack. The old king laughed and coughed as the two physicians went toe-to-toe, arguing their methods. He was exhausted, but this was the best entertainment the old coot had experienced in weeks. Finally, he decided to settle the argument. "I'm dying you old bastard, and I would rather do it with open windows and fresh air than drowning in my own retched stench!"

The physician huffed and exited quickly, his complaints could be heard all the way to the stairs at the end of the hall. Lot gave Merlin a wink just before another coughing fit took hold. Merlin offered him some water, while the rest waited to find out why they had been summoned.

"It has come to my attention that my grandson has yet to settle down." He leveled a measured gaze on each of them before continuing, "As he is in a position that benefits both Lothian and Camelot, this is something that needs addressed."

"With all due respect, King Lot," Arthur began, "I don't feel it would be right to force him into an arrangement."

Lot waived his concern off. "Nonsense. It is my dying wish to see the strength of Albion reinforced and prosper as Ambrosius originally meant for it to. I believe Princess Beatrice of Klangadong would be a prudent match."

Gaheris and Gareth looked at each other in confusion. The elder stepped forward. "Father, there is no place called Klangadong, nor a Princess Beatrice." He glanced around the room, worried that King Arthur might become concerned about the treaty if he realized the old king had suddenly lost his mind.

Lot chewed on his lip for a moment. "There isn't? Hmm. Well then, Gareth perhaps you should check the brothels, look for the ugliest whore you can find. Clean her up a bit and put her in one of Mazlena's dresses."

Gareth groaned, but he couldn't keep the smirk off his face as he realized what was going on.

Clarissant let out with a squeal. "Oh, by the gods, are you serious? That is absolutely bloody fucking brilliant!"

Lot turned his head to wink at his granddaughter, who was holding her sides, unable to breathe through her excited giggles.

Gaheris rolled his eyes. "I don't think my daughter would approve of one of her…"

"Your daughter is a spoiled little twit," Lot grumbled.

"She's your granddaughter, why would you speak of her in such a way?"

"Because, she would be the first one to agree with me," the old king spat back.

"I think Princess Beatrice sounds like a perfect match for Gwaine." Clarissant smiled evilly at the others who seemed to finally catch on.

Arthur stroked his chin in thought. "Yes, this sounds like it would be a very advantageous match with …what was that kingdom's name?"

"Klangadong," Merlin sputtered. "It's probably in Scotland somewhere."

* * *

 

"GWAINE!" Merlin called out running through the hallway trying to catch his friend.

The tone of the warlock's voice was dire and Gwaine's mind immediately went to fearing that something had happened to his grandfather. "What is it?"

"You've got to come quick. Lot and Arthur were talking last night… and now there's someone arriving… even Lot insisted on being carried out there to greet… Oh, gods, you've got to come, now!" He panted out between heaving breaths.

He took off after Merlin towards the main steps of the castle, skidding to a halt just as a woman in a litter was being carried to the bottom of the steps.

"Ah Gwaine, you're here," Arthur said, he had on his best political smile, but Gwaine could see the apprehension underneath. "I'm sorry, but we had no time to inform you-"

"Inform me of what?"

The procession with the litter stopped and the curtains were held aside.

"There was a serious threat to all the kingdoms that I was just informed of this morning."

"My sword is yours, Sire.  Whatever you need of me."

"Good, I was counting on that. There is only one way to avert this disaster. And that is an arranged marriage to Princess Beatrice. It is not your sword that is needed at this time, but you. You are the common thread that brings Lothian and Camelot together."

Gwaine's eyes went wide and he spun around, looking at every face gathered. Not a single one of them appeared to be joking. He turned back to the veiled figure climbing out of the litter, and swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat. Her body seemed decent, he thought. Soon, she was in front of them all, greeting them with a jilted curtsy. Raising her veil Gwaine felt his stomach turn.

Princess Beatrice was older than he expected, most of her teeth were missing, and on her chin were at least two large, hairy warts with another on her nose.* She smiled and batted her eyes at Gwaine.

The knight felt faint and was wondering if someone had spiked his drink the night before.

"Ah, Princess Beatrice of Klangadong, it is so good of you to grace us with your presence," Lot spoke from his chair. "It is my dying wish to see our kingdoms finally united under a banner of peace."

Gwaine was ready to bolt, but Merlin's steady hand on his shoulder kept him in place. He felt a stab of guilt from Lot's words -- it would be cruel to deny the man his last wish. Although, Gwaine's own wish was that they had found someone else for this part.

He was in a fog of dazed confusion as he was urged to extend his arm to the princess, and he didn't hear anything that was said. A group of servants had picked Lot up in his sedan throne and carried him inside to a small chamber where everyone gathered. A cleric stood on a dais, obviously awaiting them.

He was standing next to the ugliest woman he'd ever seen, just below the scholarly man. He heard the words of the cleric and his mind was spinning. He couldn't find a way out of this. He looked to his sister, but her own features were grim and apologetic. He thought he might have nodded when asked a question and then she was happily agreeing to something. It was when the man above him asked if anyone objected to the union that reality caught back up with him.

That was when it happened. The princess turned towards Gareth. "You said I wouldn't have to go all the way through with it. Not that I mind one so handsome, but if you really expect me to marry him my fee is going to be double."

"Fee?" Gwaine stammered and looked to his uncle, whose façade of innocence was beginning to crack. "FEE?" He shot an angry glare at Arthur, then to Merlin, his dark eyes narrowing as they slid across a smirking Lot and finally landed on his sister, "Oh you are so going to pay for this!"

The gathering erupted in laughter, knowing the gig was up.

* * *

 

Gwaine sat back in the dining hall glaring at everyone. He hadn't spoken a word since that afternoon when the 'wedding' was finally called off. Between the betrayal he felt at being the center of the ruse and the admiration for pulling off such a prank, he found himself concerned for Lot.

The old man had been the one to laugh the hardest when Gwaine finally realized the joke and the others informed the knight that it was all the old man's doing to set the plan in motion. The hilarity of it all had brought on a serious coughing fit and they all noticed the blood that came out with the darkened phlegm. Lot's physician was in hysterics about it.  Although, the old king managed to gain enough control to fire the man, before he was coughing again.

After a while Gwaine stood up with his drink and left the room; the others staring after him. He found his way to Lot's chambers and allowed himself entrance. He could hear the raspy breathing as he approached the bed and dismissed the servant. Merlin was on the other side mixing together some tonic. He noticed the question in Gwaine's eyes and shrugged somberly.

"Grandfather," Gwaine said softly, taking the old man's hand.

Lot stirred slightly and looked up, his eyes clouded over from the tonics. "Ah, Gwaine. Thank you, for allowing an old man some amusement. I can die with a smile on my face, which is the next best thing to a sword in my hand." He tried to cough, but his body was too frail and exhausted to even do that. He gasped a few times and shut his eyes.

"Merlin… is there anything…" The warlock shook his head. "What about the stuff the other healer was doing?"

"Only prolonging the inevitable and making him miserable at the same time."

Gwaine nodded his understanding. If it were him, he would have been horrified by being shut away in the room as Lot was when they first came. "How long?"

Merlin's eyes fell to the king. He didn't need to answer.

"Can you…uh…" he nodded towards the door.

Merlin nodded and moved around the bed to his friend. He patted Gwaine's shoulder in a comforting gesture and handed the knight a small bottle. "This will help to ease him," The dark-haired man left the room so Gwaine could have some time with his grandfather.

* * *

 

The sky had begun to lighten from the deep indigo to a pink pre-dawn glow when the bells of the city began to toll. A herald cried out from the walls,  _"The King is dead."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Think Tracy Ulman's character in Robin Hood: Men in Tights, but slightly younger if you need a visual.  
> My own bit of a twist to add in the myth of Sir Gawain and Lady Ragnell.


	54. Chapter 54

All of the kingdom mourned for the man who had been their king.  He had been battle hardened and worn; he didn't take kindly threats against him.  While his humor had been well known, so had his ire for those who crossed him.  Lot didn't suffer fools lightly.  His ancient roots, to the north across the waters and fjords of the Norse, ran deep.

The king was interned into a crypt where his body was to be kept for ten days awaiting the funeral pyre, as befitted royalty descended from the Norse. During which time gifts were brought and placed. A young servant maiden was brought and she sat inside with the corpse. Merlin was a bit uneasy as he watched her sit with the body. It was made clear that she volunteered for the duty. Although, the way people looked at her, gave the warlock shivers.

It was three days before the party from Camelot left the Lothian capital. After a long night of discussion with Arthur, Gwaine and Clarissant decided to remain behind to await the actual funeral. Percival was torn between his duty and his wife, until Gwen spoke up and told him to stay. Haddy was to stay with the main party, as the three staying would be able to ride hard when they left Lothian to catch up to the main party that would be moving slower due to the coach and wagon. Arthur himself wished to stay to view Gaheris's coronation, but the Lothian customs were different than those of Camelot, and it would be at least another week after the fire before he was to be crowned. Merlin was already becoming antsy by the extra days spent. It was Cai who put his hand on the shoulder of the younger man when he began to pace in anticipation. For his own safety, and to keep the people in Lothian from becoming suspicious, Gareth –who had been reluctantly introduced to Bran in Camelot- suggested the severed head be kept well out of sight. So Bran was watching Merlin's anxiety and wishing very much he could pace as well.

* * *

They had been on the road for almost two weeks when the three they had left behind finally caught up to them. Not much was told about the actual ceremony, except that it was not what the three had expected. Many of the Norse traditions of Lot's family had been integrated into the more civilized Roman rites. Clarissant seemed to have taken it the hardest, they said the maiden who sat with Lot's body, now joined him in the afterlife, but none of them would elaborate any further.

As the caravan moved on Merlin recalled how he and Gwaine were on foot last time, which seemed to still move faster than the bulky uneven carriage. With his magic he'd been able to keep it from getting mired down in the muddier places along the road, but it still took what appeared to be an excessive amount of time to gain any ground. In his mind they were going too slow. He needed to reach the keep to find out what was going on and how it affected the prophecy he witnessed.

* * *

 

The sea could be heard echoing along the base of the hills. Merlin paused and looked around. He suddenly turned his horse off the main path towards a foot path that wound steeply up a hillside, stopping at the top of the hill. Gwaine noticed the warlock's change in direction and grinned. He called to others and soon a few were following the knight up the hill on horseback while the rest of the caravan continued to ramble on the road towards the river that led from the port at the bay up to Bedkelerd, the closest township to Dinas Emrys.

When Merlin reached the top, his breath caught in his throat, nearly the same way it had almost a year ago. He now wasn't sure if the valley below him was the same one Freya had described so long ago, like he was the first time he and Gwaine had come upon it. This time his thoughts went not to the love he had lost so many years before, but to the keep across the vale and meadow filled with spring flowers, past the lake and the ancient forest that held the Grove of Magicians, hidden among the foliage, to a hill on the other side framed by the snowcapped mountains in the distance. The tallest peak, he now knew as Snowdonia loomed high above them all. A sense of homecoming flooded through him. He didn't notice that the other's soon joined him until Gwen gasped at the view.

"Merlin… this is…breathtaking," the queen whispered hoarsely, feeling as if she was committing sacrilege by simply speaking. She sat behind Arthur on his horse, not wanting to be left behind in the carriage procession. Clarissant clung to Percival in much the same manner.

They stood together admiring the view before Gwaine couldn't stand it anymore and opened his mouth, "Yeah just be careful going down… it can get rather  _slippery_." He shot Merlin a challenging glare.

Merlin burst out laughing, recalling the spell that 'slipped out' and sent his friend face first into the mud, "Only for you Gwaine, I think the others will be safe."

The horses began to tense underneath them in nervousness. From another of the nearby hills they all watched in awe as a shining form that almost appeared like a bird, crested the hill and climbed into the sky. The sun gleamed off of it making it appear almost like molten silver against the light. Their mounts began to paw at the ground and snort, causing them all to dismount for safety, as the flying creature dove back down from the clouds, nearly hitting the ground. It pulled up out of the dive just above the floor of wildflowers, white opalescent wings stretched out wide, the flora swaying in their wake.

Merlin giggled ecstatically, a huge smile on his face that the others had not seen for years.

"Is that a… dragon?" Clarissant asked hesitantly as they witnessed the aerial acrobatics. She had seen Kilgharrah and the transformed body of the red dragon, while this one was much smaller, the display of its flight made it appear much more streamlined and graceful. The creature pulled up before the next hill, riding on unseen currents as it shot back into the sky and punched a hole through the clouds.

Gwaine had joined Merlin's delighted laughter, "I think that's Aithusa!"

The dragon lord nodded. He took a breath and reached within himself, the voice of power coming out as he called to her. They all watched the sky in anticipation and were soon rewarded as the form pierced through a cloud and sped towards them, the horses sensing danger began rearing back and dancing. Merlin shot out his hand and spoke to her again in the ancient language.

It was almost comical the way the young white dragon seemed to stutter in her flight path and turn away, landing just down the hill from where they stood. They watched in wonder as her form shifted to the little girl they all knew and she came running up into Merlin's waiting arms. She whispered something to her father and he turned to look down hill at the meadow. The rest followed his gaze to see the dark-haired woman in a simple homespun dress making her way through the grass and flowers towards the hill where they stood.

Merlin smiled and moved down the hill to meet her.

 


	55. Chapter 55

Morgana stared out from the wall. It was the first real day of warm sunshine the area had seen in a while and it felt good. She closed her eyes and just let its rays caress her skin. There hadn't been a single word from Maelgwn since she had stormed out of his castle, but he didn't seem the type to let things go. Vivienne took her to the coast, south of the new port town for the spring solstice where the druids and locals were out celebrating, even in the rain. Aithusa giggled in delight, and unlike the children in Camelot, the druid kids had no compunction about playing with strange girl. Against Morgana's initial reluctance, the girl, who had taken to calling her 'mam,' even showed off her dragon form.

Morgana half-expected to be witnessing the destruction of the keep on their return. Thankfully, it was still standing, but in a small corner of her mind, it caused her to be even more nervous about what was coming. Her nightmares had been vague as she woke almost every night feeling as if the entire structure was trembling and breaking apart underneath her. The dragon girl was a great comfort and usually slept in the same bed with her, but Morgana found that it couldn't quite compare to the safety she felt in the masculine arms of the blue eyed warlock.

She knew that Kilgharrah had found a place nearby and was patiently teaching the young dragon the esoteric mysteries of what that entailed, although she felt extremely ill at ease in his presence. She could tell he didn't trust her with Aithusa, or just in general for that matter. Other than his initial communication when he brought the pale girl to her, he never referred to her by name, only as 'witch' and it was beginning to raise her ire.

Morgana was ecstatic after the tantrum when Aithusa, for the first time had actually spoken to her in words rather than thought. With her mother's help they soon found a routine for the remainder of the winter season that suited them and allowed the girl to thrive.

This morning she woke, not from the usual nightmare but with her heart beating in anticipation. She was trembling so badly that she lost her grip on the clay cup she was drinking out of as they broke their nightly fast and it went crashing to the floor. Her nerves were raw, although when confronted by her mother, she couldn't seem to give an explanation. Even Aithusa appeared to be on edge, feeling something in the air that would signify a change for them all.

Vivienne climbed the stairs up to the parapet and watched her daughter for a few minutes. When she was forced to flee from Uther and his men so long ago, she could never have predicted a time when her daughter would be back in her life, or in such a way. They got along well enough, learning each other as friends more than family, but then the girl arrived and they found themselves bonding as Vivienne had always dreamed of. "It's such a beautiful day, why don't you take Aithusa and go pick some flower or something?" She offered, coming up next to Morgana.

"But, what if something happens? What if today is the day he finally decides to attack?"

The elder woman wrapped her arm around her daughter's waist, "Then I will send one of the boys to get you. We'll have enough warning. Don't fret."

Morgana nodded and allowed her mother to lead her down the stairs. She sat as Vivienne packed up a light lunch and wrapped it in cheese cloth before she called to Aithusa and the two were on their way. It was a steep climb down the hill towards the main meadow, but they did it effortlessly. The girl was unable to resist the beautiful day and ran off a ways before her magic shifted and she began rolling around in the grasses in her dragon form, thrilled with the abundance of life around her. Morgana laughed at the antics and couldn't help herself as she reached for her magic and summoned a spectral butterfly, sending it speeding just under Aithusa's nose. The dragon girl sprang up instantly and darted after it in play while Morgana commanded it back and forth. She sent it up one of the nearby hills and Aithusa gave chase, disappearing over the crest. Morgana's concentration on the small flying bug image was lost as movement from the top of another hill caught her eye.

She stared at the man and horse silhouetted on the hilltop, and she felt her heart skip a beat. Aithusa flew back above the knoll and dove down towards the meadow. Morgana's attention shifted as her breath caught in fear, thinking for a moment the girl was in an out of control free fall. She shook her head with relief as Aithusa pulled up and skimmed over the flowers and up the opposite mound.

Looking back up, she now saw others, dismounting from their horses and watching in awe at the dragon's flight. She finally recognized the figures up on the crest and began making her way towards them with a smile.

* * *

 

Just before he reached Morgana, Merlin sat Aithusa on the ground, the smile from watching her fly and the relief at making it home evident in his face as he reached for a hug. He stood in shock as her hands came up to cup his jaw and she pressed her lips to his. A brief moment of panic caused him to nearly pull away before the sensation overrode the emotion and he exhaled through his nose while he returned the kiss with a passionate one of his own. All too soon for his liking, she pulled back, smiling at him. "Well, it's good to be home," He managed to stutter before pain exploded in his cheek with a loud cracking sound.

Bring his hand to his face, he looked back up at her and noticed her smile had morphed into an angry glare as she stood in front of him defensively. "What the hell was that for?" He growled.

"Oh, as if you don't know," she replied indignantly.

He bit the insides of his cheeks and returned her scowl. "I don't know and I did not come back here intending to play these stupid games with you Morgana!" Spinning on his heel he began trudging back up the hill. His felt a stab of emotional pain through his heart. He should have expected her reaction after the last parting where she threatened to show him how it was played, but when he saw her in the meadow, he pushed the memory to the side and for a moment allowed himself to rejoice in seeing her.

Aithusa stood nervously, this was the first time in her life that she had seen the two people she cared about most together, and it was not going how she had imagined. She had overheard conversations in Camelot, and also between her mam and naini, as she had started calling Vivienne after spending time with the druid children, but never quite understood the context, when they spoke of the volatile relationship Morgana had with others. Even Kilgharrah seemed to harbor some resentment towards Morgana, though he kept his words civil around Aithusa – the tension was always there.

Merlin paused next to her, the side of his face sporting the reddened shape of a handprint. He smiled, seemingly ignoring it, "Hey Prince Bran is over the hill with the wagons, want to go see him?"

She held back the tears of shock and nodded mutely, reaching up her arms so that Merlin would carry her.

Morgana stood stunned for a moment, "Oh so now you're just going to walk away again?"

Merlin didn't answer, or even acknowledge she'd spoke as he reached his horse. The others stood around and watched, casting nervous glances at each other.

"Hey kido!" Gwaine said with a smile, ruffling her hair. "I saw you flying, that was incredible!"

Aithusa giggled and smiled her thanks as Merlin lifted her up on his horse.

Gwen looked at Arthur with a smirk. "Well, Morgana certainly seems like her old self."

The king was trying not to laugh, "Reminds me of the time she slapped Sir Kaleb for saying he preferred the purple dress when she was sixteen."

She stifled a giggle and nodded. "I think I'll go talk to her. I need to be sure for myself that what you all say is true."

Gwen left the men, Clarissant, and Aithusa on the top of the hill and carefully made her way towards the woman she once knew as a friend.

Morgana's eyes widened as she saw her former maid carefully moving down. She stopped and stood, unsure for a bit, knowing how badly their relationship had ended.

The queen tried to maintain her composure, although she was certain she didn't appear very regal at the moment, wearing men's breeches and a tunic with a fur wrap, covered in grime from weeks on the road. As she neared and her eyes met with Morgana's she spent a moment searching their depths for the madness that had plagued her friend.

Morgana was stunned that Gwen would even approach her, the memory of fighting against herself as she disarmed and tried to kill her maidservant holding her fast to the ground.

Nodding in satisfaction, Guinevere's façade broke and she smiled, moisture clouding her eyes, "It really is you, isn't it?"

Morgana nodded, her own green eyes filling with tears, "Gwen, I'm so sorry…"

"Oh, let's have none of that, come here!" She embraced her old friend. Gwen spoke quietly in the other woman's ear, "Although, if you do decide to slap me, it would now be considered treason."

Pulling back Morgana looked at her fearfully before realizing that it was meant as a joke, "I have no plans for that, My Lady."

Gwen chuckled, "If you call me that, for as long as we have known each other,  _I_  might be tempted. Now, come on, I want to see this keep Merlin has told me about."

Green eyes shifted up the hill. "Don't you want to ride with them?"

"No, I want to walk with you so we can have a chat."

* * *

 

The men watched from the hill as the two women turned and started across the meadow. Arthur turned to Gwaine and nodded.

"Yes, Sire," the roguish man replied, comprehending the unspoken order to follow the two as a bodyguard. "I'll see you back at the fort, little one," He said to Aithusa as he climbed on his horse and began to move away.

Merlin swallowed and fought against the urge to look as he mounted behind the girl. The others turned and rode back towards the road, quickly catching up to the wagon and carriage.

"I see you changed girls back there," Cai commented as they rejoined the main group. He did a double take at Merlin, noticing the red mark on the man's cheek. "Did you fall or something?"

Merlin grimaced, "Something like that."

"He got slapped," Aithusa offered in a chipper voice. A giggle made her turn and she noticed the little dark haired boy riding on a pony nearby and did not recognize him from her time in Camelot. "Who are you?" She asked, scrunching her nose in a way that mimicked Morgana.

"I'm Galahad, and I'm a prince!" The boy declared proudly.

"That's nice, I'm a dragon," Aithusa rolled her eyes, not seeming impressed.

* * *

 

"Tell me, what was that about back there?"

"What do you mean?" Morgana responded.

"Hitting Merlin like that. He may not say it, but he has been pining away all winter for you. You can see it in his eyes."

Morgana took a breath and glanced away. They were nearly to the lake and talk so far had been easy going with the two women. "When he left, we were having a bit of a row. Then he sends Aithusa back here, by herself, and in a state of shock."

"I thought he had the other dragon bring her back?"

"Oh he did, but how could he have been so careless with her in the first place?"

Gwen slowed for a moment and shook her head, "He was doing the best he could with her and with still working for Arthur. A few of the lords were plotting against the kingdom, so he was dealing with that, trying to find someone to help Gaius, who had taken a rather bad fall, and well just being Merlin, exhausting himself while trying to take care of everything and everyone around him. He thought it would be best for her to come here."

She digested the information the queen gave her. Then she shrugged as they continued walking, "I don't know. Just seeing him drives me crazy sometimes."

"Men will do that, but it's no reason to smack him," Gwen's tone of voice was no longer that of a meek maidservant, but held the commanding air of a queen

"Well, look at you being all regal and noble!"

"I've had a few years to practice," Gwen laughed.

"I'm surprised you and Arthur don't already have little ones of your own running around," Morgana stated, trying to change the subject away from her mess of a so-called romance. She was unprepared for the silent sadness that seemed to descend upon them.

"What's wrong?" Morgana finally asked, noticing the unshed tears in her friend's brown eyes.

"It's not from lack of trying," She admitted sullenly. "Actually I think I have now attempted every tonic, compound, and charm possible. I even asked Merlin if he could do something."

Morgana gave Gwen a confused look wrought with concern.

"No, not that! But with his magic perhaps, I had hoped he could do something, but all he did was panic and told me I needed to speak with Arthur about that."

"Well that makes sense. How do you know it's not Arthur?"

"Because Arthur already has a son."

Black hair whipped around as Morgana spun to look at the queen. "What? With who?"

"I'm surprised Merlin didn't tell you. The lady Lisanor's boy. He and his uncles are back with the caravan. He's a good boy, but each time I see him, I feel… cheated perhaps is the word."

Gulping down the sudden appearance of nerves, Morgana turned the conversation back, "What did Arthur say about the magic?" Morgana felt an odd sense of familiarity with the situation and wondered how it seemed to mirror her own life in a way.

"Nothing. Each time I have tried to bring it up, he gets … weird and changes the subject, or simply acts like he doesn't hear me." Gwen turned her head to look at Morgana as they continued walking, "Why do you say it 'makes sense'?"

Morgana licked her lips nervously, "I really shouldn't say, I don't know the whole story."

The queen stopped fully. "Tell me what you know, Morgana, please!"

She closed her green eyes and took a deep breath. For a moment she thought about protesting that it wasn't her place, but seeing the pleading look in Guinevere's face, she couldn't deny her friend. "It took Ygraine over ten years of marriage before Arthur was conceived. Supposedly it was only after he found out that I was his daughter that Uther turned to magic so she could have a child. That magic is what killed her. It needed to take a life to create one."

Everything fell into place for Gwen and she felt her knees go weak. She now understood why Arthur would purposefully dodge questions surround his mother and some of the underlying subtext between his conversations with Merlin. If powerful magic had been the cause of Ygraine's death to simply bring Arthur into being, not just that the magic couldn't save her at his birth, as Gwen originally thought, it explained why Merlin would shy away from such a question. She didn't even realize that she was on the ground until Gwaine was suddenly beside her.

"Are you alright, My Lady?" He asked, pinning Morgana with a questioning stare. He had been following the two women at a respectable distance. Close enough to protect the queen, but staying behind a bit so as not to overhear their conversation. Through all his joking and light-hearted banter, a part of him still held reservations about Morgana after all that had been done. He liked the woman he'd gotten to know well enough, but her small attack on Merlin earlier brought up some memories of his own.

"I'm fine, Gwaine, really. Just … we're fine. You can go back to your horse." Gwen waived him off after he assisted her back to her feet.

He shot another glance at Morgana, and his tension eased when he noticed her eyebrows pinched in concern, just as distraught as the queen. He chided himself for allowing himself to think that this new Morgana would have done something to harm Guinevere. It was obvious neither of the women were going to say anything further in his presence, so when he was certain Gwen was stable, he moved away.

"Well I suppose this is why even Alice told me it wasn't an option. Thank you, Morgana, for being honest with me." They continued their trek passed the lake and began to climb the hill to the fort. It would be awhile yet until the caravan arrived following the main road around the hill and past the town.

Morgana ventured to ask how many there were, and upon Gwen's answer of at least fifty, including the knights, guards, and servants she could see a panic form in Morgana's eyes. "We don't have enough provisions to host that many! Bringing this many people without warning alone is reason for me to have slapped that man," she huffed out.

Gwen chuckled, "Oh don't blame him for that, Arthur and Percival did most of the planning. Although I did add in a few extras at the end," she said with a hint of mischief.

"Why would you do that?"

"They were all so concerned with protection and supplies, that I thought it might be nice to bring some of your personal things. I have to say though; it wasn't until I saw a gift Merlin got for you that I even thought about it."

"He got me a gift?" She suddenly felt guilty for the words she had said to Merlin. He was the one who still, through everything believed there had been good hidden within her. He was responsible for finding a way for her to escape the darkness that consumed her, as well as giving her a place to stay and helping her in that first month as she fought against the nightmares of all that had been destroyed at her hands. She realized her jealousy of Lisanor was a mistake after their spat and that it had more to do with the life she imagined he was living out in Camelot. In the months since he left she turned her anger onto him, though he had come home to her for comfort after the death of his kin. It was her he trusted to see to Aithusa's well-being when the dragon girl had gotten in over her head with the visions from the cave.

"What is it?" She asked Gwen apprehensively.

The queen giggled, "Well you will just have to wait and see, although it might be prudent of you to apologize to him before he gives it to you."

"Oh please, Gwen!"

The queen laughed and shook her head as they passed through the wooden gates into the walled courtyard.

* * *

 

The small keep was a flurry of activity as the king's procession arrived that evening. Vivienne and the family that lived and worked in the fort had gone into overdrive as Morgana came in with the queen and informed them of the coming visitors. The mother of the family, whom Gwen decided reminded her very much of Mary from the kitchens in Camelot, was in a huff about the lack of stores to feed so many hungry men. Although the queen assured her that the king and his knight's had been hunting a few days before and there were plenty of supplies left on the wagons to feed them.

It was well after dark when Morgana finally began unpacking the trunks of her things in her room with Gwen's help. She had barely seen Merlin since the party entered the gates. When she did he refused to meet her eyes, ignoring her and although she was angry, she wasn't sure now if she could blame him. Aithusa was running around showing off her home to the young prince Morgana had been introduced to as Lancelot's son. As soon as she saw Loholt, it left no doubt in her mind that the thirteen year old was Arthur's son. He followed Aithusa and the boy around, acting as a guard to the young prince; although Morgana could see that he was having just as much fun as the younger kids. After the quiet winter, it was an interesting experience to see the place suddenly bursting forth with life.

Morgana opened a large chest and sighed with satisfaction as she saw many of the dresses she had cherished folded neatly inside. It felt like a holiday. She pulled out one of her favorites, ecstatic to see that the burgundy roman style sleeveless dress had survived. "Oh Gwen, I can't believe it! I wonder if it still fits."

"Well let's give it a try, shall we?" The queen was feeling just as giddy as she watched Morgana uncover the treasures.

With Gwen's help Morgana was soon standing in front of the recently unpacked looking glass; staring at a version of herself she had almost forgotten. The gold rope was tied around her neck to keep the dress from falling. She used to wear her hair back with this dress, so between the two of them, they managed to get her long dark hair in braid that fell down her exposed back.

"Unfortunately, I don't believe the shawl that accompanied it survived," Gwen said as she moved to check another trunk that was set between the bed and the wall. She heard a knock at the door and peeked around the lid to see who it was as Morgana answered it. Her hand flew to her mouth to cover any sound as she saw Merlin enter cautiously, carrying the rolled tapestry.


	56. Chapter 56

Merlin was thankful to be kept completely occupied as he worked with Vivienne and many others to get everything and everyone inside the outer wall of the keep. Although parts of the small fortress had been rebuilt, it was still going to be a tight fit with all the knights, guards, horses, and everyone else. He made certain Arthur and Gwen would be set up in his own room, as it was the most complete and comfortable next to Morgana's. A large dining hall, half of its roof still missing would serve as a temporary quarters for most of the compliment of men. A few others had to make do with tents and bedrolls set up in the courtyard and various other unoccupied spaces around the keep. He was planning on taking his own bedroll and heading to the wall where he and Gwaine had spent their first night here.

George had immediately taken charge of the supplies and was introduced to Rita, the mother of the family that Morgana had hired on to help around the place. Her husband Daniel and the two boys were skilled with their hands and had helped with slowly fixing up the keep, while their daughter, a girl of ten, who normally helped her mother with the kitchen, was currently following Loholt around like a lost puppy. The poor woman was completely overwhelmed and seemed thankful for the added help. Food was eaten on the move, as everyone wanted to get settled for the night. Tomorrow there would be a welcoming feast prepared with what they could spare.

He would cautiously watch Morgana out of the corners of his eyes whenever she was near, but he refused to acknowledge her, still reeling from the unexpected slap. Everything was going smoothly, which left him with little to do. Finally as darkness fell, he tried to think of something to further delay seeing her, but in the end decided it would be best to just get it done. He took the rolled tapestry, thankful that it had come to the castle in time and Gwen had been insistent on packing it up during his absence. With a great sigh he headed towards Morgana's chambers.

He rapped on the door. When she opened it, his eyes went wide and he felt a pulling deep inside him. She was wearing the same dress she had worn at Lancelot's knighting feast. Her arms were bare, and her hair pulled back.

Her smile faltered a bit when she saw him, taking a breath she steadied herself and stepped back to allow him entrance. In his arms he carried what appeared to be a rolled of woven cloth. She thought about Gwen's hint at a gift and wondered if this was it. In her experience tapestries weren't the most romantic of gestures, if that's what he was going for.

He seemed more the servant he used to be as he sat it down on her table, not saying anything. Merlin then took a step back, falling casually into the pose of his former self when someone like Uther had been in the room. After a moment he cleared his throat and spoke, "I had this made. I thought you might like it."

She was becoming a bit irritated, as he still refused to look her in the eye. "Thank you Merlin. I appreciate the gesture," She snipped. Morgana realized he wasn't leaving, obviously staying to see her reaction. She found a knife and cut the strings holding it together before unrolling it.

At first glance it appeared like many other tapestries.  A woman was lounging in a meadow with some animal in her lap. As she began to look closer at it, she realized the maiden had dark hair, unlike the normal blond and where the animal was typically a dog or a lamb, curled up in her lap instead, was a small white dragon. Morgan's hands flew to her mouth as she gasped, tears falling from her eyes. "Oh Merlin, it's…it's…" She couldn't find the words. Morgana turned towards him, as he finally raised his eyes to meet hers.

A half-smile appeared on his face and she took that as a welcoming gesture, moving towards him. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

Her closeness felt so welcoming, and the dress was nearly scandalous, he felt his body responding to her as she moved in on him. For so long he had dreamed of pressing his lips to hers and the kiss earlier had only served to wet his passion. He started bringing his hands up, but then he suddenly stiffened. He turned his face away just before his lips touched hers, and stepped back.

Morgana froze. "Merlin?" She asked reaching out for his hand.

"I can't Morgana. I thought we had something between us, but I refuse to let you toy with my heart the way you want. I'm glad you like that." He turned to leave.

"I'm sorry," she tried to say in an effort to stop him, "I really don't know why I slapped you."

He sighed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders and leaned his forehead against the doorframe. "It's not just that. I can't do this to you, or myself," he stated.  Between the unexpected curveballs she kept throwing at him the few times he had made contact since leaving with Gwaine the previous fall, and his own torn conscience of choosing, he felt himself hurtling into a downward spiral and it kept getting tighter. If he chose his king and his destiny what would her reaction be, what would her fate be? If he chose her, would everything he had been through, everything he had put Arthur and Leon through, be in vain? As well, he realized as the caravan pulled up the hill, the added servants, Aithusa, and now even Gwen and Clarissant would be here also if the attack came. Merlin pulled his hand from hers and walked away, leaving her standing in the doorway.

Her tears had changed from overwhelming happiness at the gift to regret. She felt Gwen come up behind her. "Oh, Morgana…"

"I… god Gwen, I don't know what to do," Morgana cried, feeling completely distraught.

Gwen bit her lip, her eyes filled with worry.  "I don't think you're fully to blame.  I mean, you did apologize. Give him a day or so to settle in and cool off.  It's been a long journey for all of us. "

She took a deep breath and smoothed out the wrinkles in the dress. "You're right, of course," she said, trying to smile, but inside she felt perhaps there was something more to his somber mood the way he said he couldn't do this to her...

* * *

 

_Camelot_

The house was mostly dark. The servants were obviously in bed, with only one or two milling about the kitchen by firelight as they prepared things for the next morning. The lord was out.  The path to the main bedchambers was easy to access. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, determined hands sifted through drawers searching for an item that would serve a dark purpose of revenge. A smile crept onto her face as she found the hand mirror, still exactly where the lady had said it was. Hearing footsteps in the hallway, as the lord of the house returned, she made her way to the widow and slipped out into the night.

* * *

 

_Hilltop_

"Hey," A man called down from a tree to his companion who sat slumped on the ground, attempting to rest. When the second man didn't respond the first took a pinecone off of a branch and dropped it on the other's head.

"What?" The other said grouchily at being woken.

"Ride to the King, it seems his _lady_  just had some company arrive. And it looks like the lord of the castle is home judging by the numbers."

"About time." The second man climbed up the tree so he could get a better look. "Hmm, well hopefully they're as well trained as they look, I know we could all use a good fight. I think my sword's been getting rusted sitting out here."

"Where do you think they're from? They aren't wearing any of the usual colors. So it's not Lothian or North Umbria."

"My guess would be Camelot, they're the only ones I know of that wear red like that."

"And how would you know?"

"The battle last year between Lothian and the Saxons, I'd heard there were a few from Camelot there. Supposedly, the Lord Emrys swears his fealty to their king."

"Yeah, isn't he the one the Saxons were claiming summoned lightning and dragons?"

"Oh, right!  Like you can trust a Saxon's word on anything. Lot's forces beat 'em down and sent 'em running.  They were just too embarrassed to admit it."

Climbing down from the tree, one of the men saddled his horse and began his ride northwest around the mountain towards the Isle of Mona and Maelgwn's castle.


	57. Chapter 57

The stars shone brightly in the sky, it seemed to Merlin that he could see more of them from up in the north, than he could in Camelot. His silent, celestial meditation was broken as Gwaine came up the stairs.

"I thought I might find you here," He said plopping down on the stones next to his friend, and glancing into the sky. "Damn it's nice. So why are you hiding?"

Merlin shrugged, "A lot on my mind."

Gwaine passed him a wineskin of mead, which Merlin gratefully accepted.  He uncorked it and took a hefty drink, causing Gwaine to glance at him curiously. It wasn't completely unusual for the warlock to drink, but typically he was more tempered about it.

The sat in companionable silence for a little while when the knight finally asked, "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," came the reply.

Soon they heard footsteps on the stairs and saw Cai coming through the door with Bran's head. "Did you know my brother is down stairs, arm wrestling your daughter?"

Merlin's brow pinched in worry before Bran added, "Don't worry, she's winning!"

"I figured this is where you two would be!" Arthur said following Cai up onto the wall.

"Where's Percival?" Merlin asked, noting that the large man was missing from what had become their core group.

Gwaine laughed, "Are you kidding? The pansy is in bed with his wife. She's already training him…"

"That's your sister, you know," the warlock reminded his friend.

"Yep, I know." He took another drink and passed around the wineskin.

"I thought you'd already be hunkered down with yours princess," Gwaine mentioned with a wink towards Arthur.

"I needed some air."

"What happened?" Merlin asked.

"She's been trying to talk to me about something, and I didn't how to answer.  So, I have been avoiding it until I could figure it out."

"Oy, is this the same question I told her to go to you about, because there is no way in hell I was going to answer it?"

"Yes, Merlin," his voice dripped with disdain, "I believe it is."

"Why don't you just tell her, then?"

"Well, I don't need to  _now_."

"Hey, what's the question?" Gwaine asked, glancing between his two friends.

"It doesn't matter, because she knows." Arthur paused and took a drink. "Morgana told her."

The men all groaned. Although, three of them didn't know what the question was, it was never a good thing when it was important...and answered by another woman.

"Hey Gwaine, pass that skin over here," Bran asked.

"I don't know, you're such a lightweight, can't hold your drink for nothing."

Amidst chuckles from the others, Bran scowled. "Someday, Gwaine, I will have a body again and then we'll see who drinks who under the table."

"Speaking of… we need more!" Cai mentioned, draining the last of the skin, though none of the men made a move to go get more.

Merlin finally sighed, and began to stand.

"No, Merlin, sit down, you're the lord here… wait, you are the lord here, and we are the visitors. So, yes go get us some more drink!" The king laughed.

"Eh, who said anything about going anywhere?" Merlin leaned over the wall looking into the courtyard. Over near a shadowed wall, just outside the kitchen area he saw what he was looking for. A whispered word and a glow of his eyes soon had a small cask of mead hovering off the ground and rising towards them.

"That has to be to most amazing magic I've ever seen you do, Merlin!" Gwaine declared loudly.

Merlin gave his friend a quirky look. "And that has to be the first time I've ever heard you actually call what I do 'magic' instead of …" He made a mocking sound and gestures of finger waving that the rogue typically used when referring to Merlin's talent.

"Well, you've finally proved it's a worthwhile skill." He clapped Merlin on the back.

"Don't suppose you remembered cups?" Cai asked with a smirk.

"Who said I'm sharing this?" The warlock hugged the cask possessively.

Arthur's lip lifted on one side in a grimace. "What the hell's got you all riled up? Still not upset about that love tap my sister gave you earlier are you?"

"Love tap? Is that what it's called these days?" Merlin's eyes were wide with skepticism.

Cai snickered, "I bet that was something to see. Sorry I missed out on it."

Merlin rolled his eyes. He grabbed the wineskin and refilled it; taking another long drink before handing it off to Gwaine.

"Did you give her the gift?" Bran asked curiously.

"Yep."

The others sat forward and Gwaine asked, "Well, what did she think?"

"Loved it," He mentioned too casually as the skin came back around to him.

"Well, did she at least apologize?" Arthur wondered.

"Yes, she did," he didn't elaborate. They all pinned him with inquisitive stares. Merlin sighed, "She loved it. She apologized. She was going to kiss me… and I…"

The king groaned, "Decided to be a girl about it?"

"No," he protested. "There's just a lot more to consider than my feelings for her right now."

Cai caught Merlin's eyes. He raised an eyebrow that reminded the warlock of Gaius. Merlin leaned his head back and groaned, "Fine! You know how I told you about a choice I would have to make Arthur?"

The king nodded after a moment of thought.

"Well, I can either save you or save her. Vivienne was telling me about a king over on Mona. He took a fancy to Morgana and when she turned him down he declared that he would attack when spring came."

Arthur's mind cleared a bit and he suddenly went into military mode. "What's his troop compliment? We can send word to Lothian and see if they can spare some men, or to Queen Annis. This hill and fort is well situated, we should be able to defend it easily while waiting for reinforcements if we ration our supplies."

"Plus, you have a dragon buddy and a kid that can arm wrestle a full grown man," Gwaine chuckled and elbowed his friend.

"I'm not sure how to respond to that, Gwaine." He snickered and shook his head before continuing, "According to the vision I saw, he won't attack until we head out, which we need to do soon. Although, if he's the king around here, it might be hard getting us some boats to head to Ireland."

Cai's face scrunched in thought and he turned to Arthur. "Well, as King of Camelot, you can always offer your sister in marriage in exchange for the boats. It would be a win-win."

Merlin's eyes shot wide at the mention of someone else marrying Morgana, it was a look that was not lost on the others. Gwaine, Cai, and Arthur began laughing and it took Merlin a moment to realize Cai had made his suggestion in jest.

"Naw, I tried something like that. I would say I lost my head over that deal… but, actually that's the only part I was able to find," Bran mentioned sourly.

Gwaine refilled the wineskin again. "So, how does this thing work?" He asked, his speech beginning to reflect the amount of alcohol they had been drinking.

"How does what work?"

"The whole vision thing? You said you saw it happen. I've never heard you talk of seeing things before."

Merlin slouched lower against the wall, wholly unsure if he wanted to get into trying to explain something he didn't understand himself. "I...sometimes, because of my magic, or just being me, or something, I can see things that will happen."

"Like the nightmares Morgana used to have?" Arthur queried, it was a point he had always been curious about since she had come to stay in Camelot at age ten, but Gaius and his father would just write the frightening dreams off and give her tonics to sleep. As he grew, he also began to dismiss them as pass it off as hallucinations.

Merlin nodded, "Still has, and yes, sort of, but I'm usually awake when it happens."

"So, if you can see these, then you can change them, right?"

"That's not how it works," Cai answered and glanced at his friend for permission to continue. The warlock nodded thankfully and took another long sip of mead. "From what he's explained anything he does to alter the outcome only brings it about quicker, and sometimes much more violently."

"And he told  _you_  about this?" The king felt a small pang of jealousy that Cai would be privy to this information.

The dark-haired knight smacked his lips. "Well, after he started talking to pigs while we were in a tavern heading to Southron… he really didn't have a choice."

"I was not talking to pigs in the tavern!" Merlin laughed at Cai's interpretation. "I had a vision I was in an orchard talking to a pig while we were sitting in the… oh, never mind!" He covered his face and groaned.

"Whoa!  This was when you found that prince kid that was a pig? So wait… was he really a pig, or was that…" Gwaine's mind was having a hard time keeping up with his own thoughts and he stared off for a moment before nodding to himself. The others could see he had reached some type of internal conclusion, but not a single one of them could fathom what it was.

"How much did you have to drink before you came up here, Gwaine?" Merlin asked on the verge of giggles.

Flipping his bangs out of his face, Gwaine just smiled.

"What was this vision you are concerned about?" Bran asked, being the only fully sober of the bunch. He could taste the mead, and smell it, but not being able to actually drink it allowed him to keep a clear head about things.

It had been a long journey and an emotional day, with the help of his intoxication; Merlin shrugged and decided to explain all he could remember. "So by bringing up Gwen and Clarissant and everyone, now I wonder if they're in danger as well."

"You didn't see them in the visions though?" Arthur asked, his heart heavy with concern.

Merlin shook his head.

"Hmm, well, I have a solution for this," he began.

Merlin looked worriedly at the king and waited for him to continue. Arthur didn't say anything. "And the solution being?" He prompted.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I've got it all figured out." The king stood, a bit wobbly, and bid the others a good night before wandering off down the stairs.

"Prat," Merlin muttered. He glanced over at Gwaine and noticed the man had already fallen off into a drunken slumber. Bran's eyes were closed as well. Although Merlin could never tell if he actually slept.

Cai's mind seemed distant as he sat leaning against the wall across from Merlin. "What are you thinking?" The warlock asked.

The knight blew out his breath in a huff before standing and stretching his muscles that had become cramped from sitting on the cold stone. "That you need to trust her and tell her all this, then allow her to make the choice if she wants to deal with it all." He began walking towards the stairs and then paused, turning his head back, "And not make a similar mistake in assuming things like I did."

Merlin's drink addled mind wasn't certain to Cai's meaning, but the advice was something he planned to think about.


	58. Chapter 58

Birds chirped out a welcoming song to the morning, as the golden rays of the sun streamed in through the window. Last night, she had set aside all the unpacking when one of the servants, a man named George – who was the epitome of a proper butler and had nearly single handedly organized everything that evening when the party from Camelot arrived – came to her door to inform Morgana of Aithusa's antics.

_She rushed out, heading down to the main hall and found the girl giggling in childish delight as she won yet another bout of arm wrestling. Morgana thought to herself, as she stood in the doorway watching for a moment, if this is what Merlin allowed her to do during the girl's time in Camelot, then maybe he really did deserve to be slapped. It was completely unfair to the men, although most appeared to be humoring Aithusa and failing to put up any real effort. Bedivere, a man that Morgana knew to always have a temper, seemed to be the only one taking the match seriously. She watched as he flexed his one hand._

_There was a time many years ago that he and his elder brother were considered two of the most handsome up and coming nobles in Camelot. Even today, Cai was still a dashing man, and though they were still very similar in facial features, the loss of the hand and the anger present in Bedivere at his deformity, caused him to appear menacing and ugly in contrast._

_"Aithusa, what are you doing?" Morgana asked purposely stepping in between the man and the girl._

_The girl looked up, her eyes wide and said innocently, "Winning?"_

_"Well, good for you, but it's time for you to go to sleep."_

_"But…" Her lip began quivering as she thought about all the fun everyone else was going to have without her. Reluctantly, she bid goodnight to everyone. Her feet were dragging while she walked to the door. They nearly reached the door when the girl stopped and spun around, racing back into the room towards her new friend who was sitting with some of the knights. Without warning she gave Haddy a quick peck on the cheek before running back to Morgana, leaving the six year old sputtering about icky girls and all the men in the hall laughing uproariously. She took Morgana's hand as they left and then turned to her saying in a mature sounding voice, "That's how you're supposed to say goodnight. You should try that with father sometime."_

_It was Morgana's turn to sputter, completely caught off guard by Aithusa's words. It didn't take long for the excitement of the day to finally take its toll on the child after they left the hall and shortly after making it to Morgana's room, the dragon girl was sound asleep on the bed. Morgana sat for a while at the window thinking about what Aithusa said. She looked at the table where the tapestry had been to find it gone. A sense of panic came over her before she realized that it had been hung up along the exterior wall near the bed. She stared at it for a moment allowing herself to daydream that there was also a dark haired man woven into the scene._

_Looking around, she also noticed her dresses, that had been scattered throughout the room were now all hanging neatly on a cord near the fireplace and a steaming pot of water meant to release the wrinkles that had accumulated from being packed away was underneath them._

_Nothing else appeared touched and Morgana sat in wonder. She hadn't been gone that long to collect the girl, and the only one, aside from Gwen whom had left earlier to find Arthur that had seen the state of the room was the odd servant, George._

She woke up in the same chair, not realizing when she had fallen asleep. It was still rather early, judging by the scant amount of light that was slowly growing over the hills. Aithusa was curled up in a blanket on the bed, still sound asleep. Morgana craned her neck, attempting to work out the kinks that had formed during the night. She stood and looked around the room. Her green eyes flitted up to the hanging embroidered scene. When he first came in with it, she was unsure why a simple decorative carpet would cause the queen to think of Morgana, now she knew. It blew her mind to think that Merlin had such forethought. Although, perhaps, it shouldn't be that big of a surprise.  He was always thinking, she doubted if his mind ever stopped. Well, she admitted to herself with a grin, there was the morning after he was in the Perilous Lands that she got his mind to stop.

Deciding it was too early to leave her room yet, she began puttering around in an attempt to organize the clutter of her long lost belongings. She came upon a wrapped parcel that Gwen had carried in personally the evening before. She had been too absorbed in everything else to really pay it any attention until now. Undoing the cloth carefully she revealed the filigree silver box Gorlois had given her. Morgana's mind went back to that day, the last time she had seen the father that truly loved her, when she was ten years old. He was only home for a very brief spell, as King Uther had him constantly out on the battlefields and tracking down magic users of any sort. As he left it was the last time Morgana had ever expressed her love for another person. She had felt it for her sister but had not said her feelings out loud in so many words. She wasn't sure if she was ready to fully admit it to Merlin.

The raven-haired woman also recalled the last time she had opened this box. She felt a flutter in her stomach as she lifted the lid and saw the contents carefully wrapped so as not to get damaged during the journey. Her hands were trembling as she moved aside the handkerchiefs to reveal the leather pouch. It had been ten years since she placed it in there and forgotten it, after Uther had professed his sorrow for the loss of Gorlois. She had been ready to let the king die that day. It was the first time she had ever thought of taking another life in revenge. Although to her knowledge it was the first time she personally knew someone Uther had put to death, and she blamed herself for giving Tom the key.

While the king was trying to gather the guards, Morgana had slipped her hand into the assassin sorcerer's pocket and retrieved the gem.

Her magic had opened up like floodgates after that. The nightmares she suffered becoming more vivid while her powers were beginning to grow out of control. She remembered the fire that started in her room and Merlin's face as he tried to help her seek help among the druids. Then Morgause had shown up and given her the supposed 'healing' bracelet and everything went askew from there on. Morgana felt a twinge of annoyance at Merlin once again for not confiding his own secret abilities to her. But she paused now, wondering what she would have done had she known. They were both so young, and he was of a lower class, she understood now that Uther may not have actually sentenced her death because of his secret relationship, but Merlin was right when he explained to her during her recovery that he would not have been so lucky. Even Gaius's life would have been forfeit if Uther had even the slightest hint of the old physician knowing. There was even the possibility of war, as the king's paranoia might have caused him to eradicate the village in the neighboring kingdom Morgana had helped to save from ruffians months prior, simply for having a magic user born among them.

Sighing, she realized she was getting nowhere with her organization. Without recognizing it Morgana opened the pouch and allowed the palm sized stone, wrapped in silver talons and carved with esoteric runes, to fall into her hand. She watched in fascination as it glowed to life but dropped it, startled as Aithusa sat bolt upright screaming.

* * *

  _A coin was spinning in the darkness, faster and faster until it became two teardrop shapes that swirled around each other in a delicate dance. One dark and one light, each holding inside them a piece of the other. There was no emotion, as they came together in a circle. A form came between them, shifting in colors, and sent them off into chaos. Emotions took hold, infiltrating the circle and the teardrops became swirling maelstroms of panic and fear. A sliver of golden light started off in the farthest reaches and soon began calming the shapes and colors, bringing them back into balance, gathering all the emotions and pulling them together, none stronger than the other, but even in the darkness there was no hatred. The golden light changed becoming a crown with images of knights on the peaks and then it shifted to the side, the circle of its rim surrounding all the chaos and binding it together. Another light of the purest white spread from around it and the light began to grow…_

Merlin was barely awake, a shaft of sun creeping through a break in the wall and landing on his face, forcing its way through his eyelids. He tried to pull his blanket over his head to block out the coming morning as the images reflected in his memory. He knew he shouldn't have drunk so much and the pounding in his skull verified that fact. He would have probably remained passed out on the cold parapet, ignoring the dawn, if not for the dream. He could hear Bran, the corpse-less head, still sitting on the stones nearby, attempting to stifle a chuckle while watching Merlin squirm under the blanket, refusing to acknowledge that day had come.

In a flash the blanket was thrown aside and Merlin was sitting up, holding his head, his blue eyes refusing to focus. It took a moment for the warlock to realize it was more than the just the drink from the night before thrumming through him. A powerful magic roared to life. Then he heard Aithusa's scream from down in the rooms. It was nearly the same high pitched wail that he heard emitting from her in the Crystal Cave.

He jumped up from the bedroll, his hangover pressing against the feeling of the powerful magical pull and the fear for Aithusa clouding his vision; he only served in landing face down on the hard stones as he tripped over Gwaine's sleeping form.

The sound assaulted his ears first, jarring him awake. And if that wasn't enough feet stepping on him then a loud grunt as Merlin hit the floor with his nose, would have. Gwaine groaned as his own head felt like it was going to explode, he was used to waking up feeling the effects of his drink, but now after his friend's frantic footwork, he also felt like he'd been in a tavern brawl. They finally managed to untangle themselves from each other, and Merlin bolted down the stairs, Gwaine hot on his heels until he heard a voice calling out for him. Skidding to a stop Gwaine spun back around and grabbed Bran, tucking the head under his arm as he followed his friend.

* * *

 

Arthur was already standing in the doorway, his sword in his hand while still wearing his nightclothes. Merlin had to stop himself from issuing a magical push against the king to move the man out of the way as he shoved his own way into Morgana's room. Aithusa had stopped screaming by this time and she sat crying, curled up between Morgana and Gwen. A few other people stood out in the hallway looking lost and curious about the girl's shriek so early in the morning.

He caught Aithusa's eyes and in their depths she implored him to follow her gaze as it shifted to the floor. He almost cackled in relief as he spied the offending item. Cautiously, he moved towards it, fascinated by the amber colored stone. He reached for it and stopped just before his fingers touched its surface. Merlin didn't think it would activate if he were to hold it, but as sensitive as Aithusa and Morgana were to the powerful magic, he decided to not take a chance. He spied a piece of cloth nearby and used to gather up the item he'd been searching for. He quickly stuffed it into his pocket before moving to his daughter.

She broke free of the two women and nearly pounced on Merlin. "It's alright. Shush now, everything's going to be alright." He couldn't keep the brightness he felt out of his voice at finding the stone and the sense of peace that he felt from the dream. He noted the questioning scowl on Morgana's face and resolved that he would take Cai's advice from the previous night to speak with her later.

He was thankful when he noticed Arthur quietly ordering the onlookers away, until it was just the king, Gwen, Morgana, and him with Aithusa in the room. He smiled softly at his little girl. "I need to go see Kilgharrah, would you like to come with me?"

She turned to look at Morgana, knowing that her mam didn't get along with the larger dragon. Morgana held her breath. She knew that there were things the old beast could teach Aithusa that she couldn't, but each time she met with him, she could feel his scalding glare as if she was still the dark shadow that plagued the land. He didn't trust her, that was obvious, nor did she trust him. Looking at Merlin she couldn't help but notice there was something a bit different about him. It was a side of him she wasn't sure she had ever seen. He didn't look at her like he had the night before with a nervous longing for something he was almost certain could never be, nor were his eyes accusing and cold. Try as she might she couldn't see anything in the depths of his blue eyes that made sense to her.

It was Gwen who finally answered, "If anything, I think a breather out from all the people here might be a good thing for you, child."

Suddenly, a young boy came bursting into the room brandishing a blunted seax* like a sword in front of him. "I'm here to save you!" He declared to Aithusa from beneath a helm that was obviously too big for him. He tilted his head back trying to see out of the gap meant for his eyes. "I would have come sooner, but Lady Clare said I had to put my pants and shirt on first."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *seax is an early form of a dagger that was used by the Saxons


	59. Chapter 59

The men and the kids finally left the room. Arthur was escorting the young 'sir' Galahad back to his foster mother, while Merlin took Aithusa and headed out of the castle. Morgana stood by her window watching them go.

"Are you all right, Morgana?" the darker woman asked, sensing Morgana's inner turmoil.

"Hmm, yes. I'll be fine, I just… Aithusa just gave me a bit of a fright." She tried to put on a pleasant smile.

"I think she scared everyone. Any idea what set her off?" The queen asked coming up to the window next to Morgana.

"No," Morgana lied.

Gwen paused and leveled a gaze on her friend. "You don't have to lie to me, Morgana. You never had to." The queen took her friend's hand and led her over to the bed where they both sat down. "Please, I want to know. I want to help you if I can."

Morgana sighed, "I know you do, but I don't know what it is I need help with. I don't even know what I want anymore."

Squeezing her friend's hand, she spoke in a matronly tone, "At least you have a chance to choose now." They sat in silence, each contemplating their own situation. "I spoke with Arthur yesterday, about what you told me. I think he was relieved that I know."

Morgana was glad for the topic steering away from her personal problems. "What has Gaius said about it?"

"Well, I haven't spoken with him much, although I did consult with Alice.  She's been helping him since his fall, and is an amazing healer. We've been trying various remedies, and she keeps telling me to have patience, but it's so hard."

"What about an actual midwife? Physicians have a lot to offer, but from what I'm learning with my mother, they can't hold a candle to some old fashioned midwifery."

"Lady Vivienne is a midwife?"

"When she came here, running from Uther, she had a little bit of skill in magical healing from her training as a priestess before she married Gorlois. The local druid healer in Bekelert took her in as an assistant and began teaching her. She's not a diagnostician the way Gaius is, and mostly prefers just tending to the grove or helping the local women, I think partly because she couldn't help Ygraine. Even a few of the druids from nearby call on her when there's a baby coming."

"Do you think she would? Or could she even help me?" Gwen asked, not wanting to get her hopes up.

Morgana shrugged her thin shoulders. "I'll go see if I can find her, it doesn't hurt to ask. Maybe I'll find that George fellow and see if he can scrounge us up some breakfast. "

"Thank you, Morgana. Could you bring Lady Clarissant as well, when you return? She has become a true friend over the past months and has been very encouraging for me."

* * *

 

Merlin's head was still aching monstrously from the hangover and shock at waking to the feel of the Mage Stone, but the sense of satisfaction from the dream and finding this key element still kept his spirits high. He wasn't as worried about keeping Aithusa from shutting down again, as she appeared to be bouncing back easily from the rude awakening. He took Aithusa with him to give her a chance to regain herself after the morning trauma and everyone's concern for her. Grabbing some toughened jerky from the supplies and a water bag, they set out over the hill towards the forest clearing where he used to meet with the Red Dragon.

"You know you gave me quite a scare back there, when I heard you scream this morning," He said as they walked along.

"Sorry, when mam touched the stone, I felt the power and it woke me up. I was dreaming about you and her."

He began to notice her voice, although the same as it had been before, was much clearer than other children the same age. Merlin made a mental note to somehow thank Grettir for teaching her. "What was this dream?"

"There was a wall a BIG wall; it was huge, so big I couldn't see the ends. And you were on different sides of it and I was on top and there was another dragon there, but the wall was the dragon, it was bigger than the Red Lady."

Merlin looked at her curiously; it was hard for him to imagine a dragon grander than Red was in her true form.

"But, it wasn't a bad thing because we were happy. But then, I slipped and was falling…then I woke up."

"Well, if you fall off of something like that, I will do my best to catch you. So will Morgana." Merlin stopped and knelt down in front of her. "Listen, I'm really not good at this father thing, especially when we were in Camelot. But I just want you to know I am trying... and I will catch you, if you ever need me to."

Aithusa smiled brightly and threw her arms around his neck. "I know. I don't think I did before I went into that cave. I saw everything you do and all you have done."

Merlin pulled back and was about to ask when she started walking again and suddenly changed the subject. "I like Haddy."

"Do you now?" He laughed, a bit caught off guard by her proclamation.

"Mmhmm.  He's a prince and going to be a king someday, like his father."

"Aithusa, Galahad's father died many years ago," he stated, remembering his friend.

"I know," she said without thought. Her melodic voice continuing on, "Haddy doesn't mind that I'm a dragon, not a princess."

Merlin stared ahead as they walked, trying to figure out why she would call Lancelot a king when she knew he was no longer living. "Why would you want to be a princess?"

"So I can be his queen."

He laughed at that. "First off, you are far too young to be thinking about such things." He bit the inside of his lip as he watched her expression change to something that looked very much like Morgana, with the small crinkle of skepticism just above her nose. "Well, you know Queen Guinevere wasn't a princess."

"Really?" Her eyes widened.

Nodding, Merlin continued, "She was a servant, actually Morgana's servant, for a good number of years."

"You were the king's servant and Queen Gwen was mam's? Now she's queen and you and mam need to be together, too."

Merlin chuckled as they walked along. "Well, it doesn't quite work like that."

"Why not? She is your balance, after all."

He stopped the image of the dancing teardrops coming to mind and smiled at her, "Yeah, I think she is, but I just don't want to hurt her."

The little girl rolled her eyes, "You know there isn't just one coin." She broke free of his hand and went skipping ahead through the wildflowers.

"I think you need to stop learning how to speak in riddles. It's a bad trait Kilgharrah is teaching you."

She paused and turned back, confusion clear on her face. "That wasn't a riddle…"

He let it drop with a bemused shake of his head.

Just as they crested the hill, Merlin called to the great dragon before they made their way down to the meadow. It didn't take long for Kilgharrah to arrive.

"Ah, young warlock, it is good to see you bringing out the young dragonling to me today, instead of  _her._ "

Merlin noted how Aithusa went quiet and looked at the ground, almost as if she were ashamed of how she felt for Morgana in the presence of the older dragon. "Morgana has done nothing but try and protect Aithusa."

"She wouldn't have needed protection if you had taken care of the wit… _problem_  when it first came about," Kilgharrah's arrogance grated on Merlin's nerves.

He found he was not in a proper mood to deal with the large opinionated beast as Kilgharrah began to berate him for – as he cryptically phrased it in an attempt to keep it from the young dragon- not taking care of the 'problem' years ago. The dragon lord knew at once what, or more precisely who, Kilgharrah was referring to. He had a feeling he would regret it later, but at the time, with Aithusa quietly clinging to his arm he used his voice and ordered Kilgharrah to never speak of Morgana like that again.

The girl giggled and added, "Yeah," to her father's command. The old dragon snarled at them both, furious that Merlin would use his kinship in such a manner.

For a moment Merlin's anger began to rise, but he quickly tamped it down. Back in Camelot Merlin had come across a book hidden deep in the library about balance that was from a land so far away he wasn't sure if it even existed and he had to use his magic to translate it. Within its pages was the symbol he remembered in his dream.

It was Kilgharrah's advice to allow Morgana to kill Uther on numerous occasions over the years and yet in the next meeting he was telling Merlin he had to rid himself of the witch. One decision Merlin never regretted was commanding the spell from the dragon that healed Morgana after she tumbled down the stairs in his attempt to stop her from going to Morgause. The Dragon Lord took that feeling now and held onto it as he faced the large creature. He began to speak to the old dragon with that same surety, "You told me once she was the darkness to my light – I think I get that now, I really do. But, what I've come to realize is that darkness isn't a bad thing. It's a circle of balance, no emotion, but what we assign to it. Years ago, you," He smirked, the words of the red dragon coming back to him on how Kilgharrah was 'ever correct, yet constantly mistaken', "were the one who said she was the hate to my love, but I think you were wrong in your interpretation."

The great dragon waited for Merlin to elaborate. They stood in the meadow, Merlin confident and assured, while Kilgharrah grew more impatient. Aithusa spied a butterfly and took off running, chortling in her childish innocence.

Merlin smiled and watched her. She was the link that truly brought him and Morgana together. "The meaning of her birth and her name was clear for Albion. However, I'm beginning to think Arthur really isn't the other side of the coin or as Aithusa told me earlier today, possibly a different coin. He and the Knights of the Round Table make the circle that draws it together. My destiny is still clear that I am to protect him, and I will do all I can to make certain that he lives and brings about the full glory of Albion," He stated definitively. Taking a breath Merlin reached into his pocket and withdrew the cloth wrapped Mage Stone, "Although, I didn't come out here to debate visions and destiny. I need to know how to properly handle this."

* * *

 

The day was filled with activity as everyone began to settle in and find better places for everything around the keep. A hunting party was assembled to help provide food for the people that had taken up residence.  Arthur and Percival organized patrols, as well as dispatching some knights to ride to the port, and also to their allies, in hopes that between King Gaheris and Queen Annis, they could receive some reinforcements against this Maelgwn.  Although, Arthur had another idea up his sleeve. The king smirked as he thought of the plan he'd formulated the night before. He sent Gilli with two guards to deliver a personal invitation to this King of the Isle so that they might meet, and discuss a possible treaty.

"What are you grinning about?" Gwen asked, as she took a seat next to him. He shook his head and winked before giving his wife a kiss.

A few of them had gathered in a small anteroom just to the side of the main hall. Percival and Clarissant, along with a yawning and still hung over Gwaine sat to one side, Bran perched upon a pillow on the mantle. Vivienne, Cai, and Morgana stood nearby. After everything was straightened out that morning from Aithusa frightening them all, Merlin had disappeared out into the hills beyond the keep. He'd instructed them to meet him in this room in the early afternoon and he would explain what happened. Now he was all they were waiting for.

It didn't take long for him to make his appearance; he came bouncing in on the balls of his feet.

"And the happy idiot returns," Arthur couldn't help but comment on Merlin's joyful state.

The warlock offered a lopsided grin. He'd just returned from consulting with Kilgharrah about the magic item he'd found that morning. He pulled the stone out of his pocket, barehanded, without so much as a thought before placing on the table for everyone to see.

Clarissant gasped, "That looks just like the stone you've been searching for the last few months!" She recalled the picture of the mystical item from the books she had been helping to search through. "Where did you find it?" She began to reach for it and Merlin stopped her.

"Don't touch it, it's rather tricky to handle if you don't know what you're doing," He explained. "As for finding it, well I have my suspicions that it was pilfered from the sorcerer who last had it, during a brief moment when I was unconscious, and then tucked away right under our noses." He sent an ornery glance at Morgana who stiffened in her seat, but remained silent. He could see a myriad of thoughts playing behind her eyes.

Arthur tapped the table impatiently. "So, this means… what?"

"That aside from the cauldron there are only two other items left to gather. Dragon's blood…"

"Which you aren't sure what type," Gwaine cut in.

"Right."

Vivienne spoke up, "From my training as a priestess, something powerful enough to need the mage stone would require the real thing."

Merlin nodded his agreement, having come to the same conclusion himself, and opened his mouth to reply.

"I will not allow you to use Aithusa for something like this!" Morgana stated vehemently.

Merlin turned his stare on her. His voice was even and low, "I wasn't planning on it, and I would ask that you not try to assume my thoughts. I believe we've been through this before, Morgana."

"Who said I was assuming anything, I just want to make it clear," she said defensively, feeling her stomach tighten at his husky voice. She both despised and relished in the way he could make her feel such things with just his voice. She had apologized for her action and he had walked away from it. At first she felt lost in sadness and then after Aithusa went to him so willingly that morning, Morgana found herself feeling jealous of the bond they seemed to share. Rationally her own emotions didn't make sense to her.

"Oh, aren't you two just acting like an old nagging married couple!" Bran stated, rolling his eyes.

Arthur sniggered loudly at a private thought although he was in complete agreement with Bran.

Merlin didn't even try to temper the next comment out of his mouth. He smiled brazenly at Morgana. "Oh look darling, it's what I always wanted, a decorative talking bust of my ancestor for the mantle!"

She steeled herself against the chuckle that threatened and instead deepened her scowl, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her amusement. Her own magic boiled just beneath the surface. Morgana could feel his eyes evaluating her as if he could read her mind and she once again found she could decipher nothing in his.

"Ooh, someone's cheeky this afternoon!" Gwen laughed.

A few others expressed their own comments about the warlock's mood and verbal jab at Bran. Much of the time he refrained from making such biting comments, unless it was directed at Arthur.

"I can ask Kilgharrah but I'm dreading that conversation, since I am not sure what he might request in return. Especially, after I decidedly pissed him off this morning." He absently fingered the hilt of his dagger and wished he'd been able to save it from cleaning so he wouldn't have to face the great dragon again. When they had parted, Kilgharrah had made it clear he would follow the Dragon Lord's commands, but for now that was only what he would do; no more favors, and no more free advice.

"Oh lovely! First your face gets into a row with the floor," Cai commented, noting the bruise on Merlin's nose. Gwaine and Bran had explained the rude and clumsy wake up while they sat down to breakfast together earlier. "Now, you're alienating a dragon while your lands are possibly on the brink of war, and we're getting ready to set out for Ireland. You just don't know when to quit do you?"

Merlin's face lit up with a broad smile, as he laughed with the rest of the people gathered.

"I have the dried blood from the clothes you were wearing when you returned before the winter," Vivienne offered, pointedly ignoring the banter, her voice bringing them all back to the present situation.

He nodded and released a breath, extremely thankful at the woman's foresight to save it. "So that just leaves Mordred's blood… which I still have no idea how to get - since he's dead - or what to substitute for it."

"Are you saying that even if we find the cauldron, you're still not going to be able to make the potion?" Arthur asked, for the first time in the past year starting to outwardly show concern over the situation.

His tone was not lost on anyone in the room, least of all Gwen who gave him a sidelong glance. Everyone gathered quieted down.

"Merlin will figure it out, won't ya?" Gwaine's constant faith in his friend gave them all hope. "Now, isn't there a feast tonight we should be attending? I don't know about you all, but I'm starving!"


	60. Chapter 60

"Sir Cai, will you share a cup with me this evening?" Morgana asked flirtatiously.

The dark-haired knight started and glanced at her nervously. His own green eyes shot up towards Merlin at the other end of the hall and noticed the man's blue eyes watching the interaction. "I figured you would be sharing a cup with Lord Emrys, as this is his welcome home feast," Cai said diplomatically, knowing how the warlock felt about Morgana. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to think he was trying to come in between the two. Catching Merlin's eye he almost rolled his own when he realized the younger man was actually getting some amusement out of the situation. Right now he wasn't sure it was a good thing that the warlock knew his deep dark secret.

"Hmm. Well, it's just been so long since we have seen each other that I thought it would be a pleasant way to catch up." She gave him a lusty smile, her gaze shifted briefly to Merlin. It grew cold when she realized the warlock didn't seem to notice.

Cai finally agreed as everyone began to sit down at the tables. Quite a few of them newly made or repaired from what had been laying around just that day. "Tell me, how is your sister?" Morgana asked, keeping up the pleasant façade. 

"She is good.  Back home tending to things." He could tell by the devilish gleam in her eyes that she was fishing for information. For a moment he thought about playing her game as he saw Merlin take a seat nearby. "What do you want, Morgana?"

She scoffed and took a sip of wine brought from Camelot. "Just your company, I already told you that."

"You want to know about Lisanor and Merlin's relationship, don't you?"

"Oh, please. I really couldn't care less about that. We're just friends. Although, you know there was a time I rather fancied you." Her fingers lighted on his arm.

He nodded. "Ah, I remember. Morgana you are a beautiful woman, which you well know.  However, I do hate to disappoint you, but I prefer blonds."

Merlin, who had been taking a drink of wine himself, and pretending not to listen, nearly choked. He managed to sputter his wine back into his cup as he coughed. A few others nearby were looking at him oddly. Cai was biting his cheek, he knew it could have been two different things that set the other man off. One of which was the look on Morgana's face when she heard her advances weren't fully welcome.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked with raised eyebrows.

"Fine," he coughed again and set the cup back down grabbing a cloth napkin to cover his mouth. "Just went down the wrong is all."

"I swear Merlin, despite everything you are still one of the most ungraceful people I have ever known," Arthur mumbled through clenched teeth. The king rolled his eyes and noticed that most everyone was now seated. He raised his goblet, "Friends, first off I would thank Lord Emrys for hosting us in his…" He was searching for the right phrasing. At one point he would call upon Merlin to help him write these speeches. Even through the winter in Camelot he found himself turning towards his friend for assistance. However, this was on toast he made certain the man was not a part of.

"Pile of rubble?" Gwaine couldn't help himself as he spouted out the comment.

Arthur resisted the urge to throw something at the knight and tried to keep his composure.

"Hilltop ruins?" Someone else added.

"Rundown bunch of sticks and stones?"

Merlin could see Arthur's face was pinched as he attempted to regain himself amidst a myriad of commentary. "My wonderful home, surrounded by meadows and mountains where I am honored to have you all, despite its current state," he offered to the king.

Clapping him on the shoulder with a smile, Arthur was able to continue. "Yes to his wonderful, albeit somewhat drafty, home. There have been many changes over the past year that have affected us all, but none more than him. He who has been a steady companion for myself and many others, as well as a stalwart beacon of hope and perseverance for those like him to bring about much needed transformation in our great kingdom that will only serve to strengthen all that we look to in the future of Camelot." He raised his goblet, "For the love of Camelot!"

The words were echoed by everyone in the hall. The king remained standing and raised his wine again, "For all that you have done, Merlin, I can never repay you. However I have consulted with the Lady Vivienne and we have come to an agreement." 

Merlin slanted his eyes upward trying to read Arthur's face. For the life of him, he had no idea where the king was going with this.

"In honor of your sacrifices, I feel it only fitting that you should not be made to bear the burden of everything you have done, or will continue to do at my side, alone. That is why, and it is my right as King to do such things," He said as an aside, "I would arrange for you a marriage, to the Lady Morgana."

"WHAT?" Both Merlin and Morgana's voice echoed through the hall in unison before they were drowned out by the uproar of everyone else in cheers and mirth. The two paused, eyes wide and turned towards one another in disbelief.


	61. Chapter 61

To say he was stunned, or even shocked, was a gross understatement. Arranged marriage? To Morgana? There was a light-hearted romantic in him that wanted to jump up whooping and hollering for joy, but it was easily out weighted by the destiny and visions. The calm and confident demeanor he possessed throughout the day was nearly thrown to the wayside. He turned and caught her eyes, she appeared just as shocked as he was by the announcement. As he glanced around, he realized only Vivienne had a knowing, unsurprised smile, it was obvious by her face and also Arthur's words that she was in on the arrangement.

Merlin stood up, putting on a brave smirk that belied the sudden anxiety he felt. "My Lord, can I speak to you."

"You are speaking to me Merlin." Arthur was grinning like a cat as he took a sip of his wine.

He gulped down the lump forming in his throat. "Privately, Sire."

The look on the blond's face told Merlin he was expecting this conversation. He led Merlin off to the side and waited, with his arms crossed, for the warlock to speak.

"Why did you do that?" Merlin asked, his fingers twitching as they hung at his sides.

"Two reasons."

"Which are?" He felt himself becoming a bit irritated.

"One- because you're an idiot."

"And you're a prat.  We've already agreed on this point long ago."

"No, Merlin, I mean you are a colossal buffoon when it comes to women. Everyone can see you two are meant to be together, and hell sometimes even seem to want to be."

"When she's not slapping me, or making snide comments, or we're trying to kill each other, you mean?"

Arthur continued on as if he hadn't heard his friend. "So I figured the best way to resolve it would to be to take that decision out of your hands. Can you honesty, look me dead in the eyes and tell me that you would have gotten around to asking her yourself in a timely manner? Say before I die?"

Merlin stuttered, "Someday, yes…maybe…" He had been hoping for a private conversation with Morgana after the feast, now he wasn't sure if he should.

Arthur rolled his eyes and wondered how the same man who could stand toe to toe with dragons and other supernatural powers could also be so insecure about almost everything else in his life. "And the second reason is - I was talking with Lady Vivienne, this local king is extremely set off by Morgana's flat-out refusal. He's been showering her with gifts and such since he met her. So, we simply take Morgana out of the equation and make her unavailable to him. It's a win-win situation. You and Morgana get to be happy, and he'll have no reason to attack if she's already married."

"She is not going to like feeling as if she's being used for a political pawn, you know this."

Arthur wiped a hand over his face. "If I wanted to marry her off for politics then trust me, I would be marrying her to this 'dragon' king instead of the _Dragon Lord_."

"Oh…" He groaned, his hands had quieted, but the inner turmoil still waged.

"Ahem," The feminine voice behind him caused him to jump. "So, did you know about this?"

"Do I look like I knew about this, Morgana?" He bit out harsher than he meant to and immediately regretted it.

"Well, I can't be certain of what you know, or don't know, and I don't want to  _assume_  anything," She quipped with a vicious smile.

Arthur was watching the interaction and began to question if he did indeed make the right call with the arrangement. He slowly stepped back and cast a nervous glance at his wife, imploring her for some support. Gwen smiled impishly, her eyes telling him that he'd brought this mess on himself.

Merlin broke the stare and shook his head, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck with a sigh. "I think I need to step out for some air."

"Oh, I see, you're just going to walk away again, aren't you?" Her scowling face said more than her words.

* * *

 

Merlin stalked away from the hall and across the courtyard. Heading down the hill in the gathering dusk, not really paying attention to where he was going, just knowing that he needed to keep moving. Of course he wanted to eventually get to a point where he could ask Morgana to marry him, but he felt the need to try and put a good many things straight before he could do that without the possibility of hurting her. Right now, with destiny breathing down his neck and the choice of which path to follow closing in on him was not the ideal time to make such a commitment. He cursed Arthur for making such a public declaration. At first, he felt a measure of happiness shoot through him with the idea of being with Morgana, but the timing and the method was wrong. Not with so much up in the air between a possible siege in a keep that barely kept out the wind and the King's health in such a fragile state – even if Arthur was refusing to admit it.

He had originally considered the idea of asking Kilgharrah to help protect her from this 'Dragon of the Isle', this King of Anglesey, but when he heard the way the Great Dragon, after everything that had happened, continue to refer to Morgana as a 'problem' he allowed his emotions to get the better of him. He felt he couldn't just stand there watching Aithusa being made to feel ashamed for caring about the woman who had taken care of her and bonded with her just because one of her kin might have a personal grudge. If it was Merlin alone, he might not have gone so far as to have used his power over the great beast, but the deed was done. He wished he could make Kilgharrah see what he saw in Morgana. Although she drove him to distraction on the romantic front, when it came down to the core of it all – she was a part of him that he couldn't live without.

But then, there was Arthur and the destiny of the Once and Future King. There was Merlin's own role as Emrys of the prophecies, they were linked and Merlin knew that it was imperative to keep all they had worked and sacrificed for over the years on track as the time of Albion approached. Many times Merlin had tried to subvert destiny and mold it to suit his needs. Each time he was reminded that it would have consequences. And yet he began to realize that was going to happen no matter which way he chose.

He finally looked up to see where he was and was surprised to find he had come to the magical grove. His feet were at the edge of the stone ring, he could see the basin in the center, its still water reflecting the last colors of the sunset. Sitting on the ground next to it was a sight he never thought he'd see again.

She looked over to him, smiling softly, as if she expected him. Which, he thought by her being here, she probably had. "Hello Merlin," her voice was gentle.

Merlin smiled and took a breath to stay his thoughts before he entered the sacred ring. "Hello Freya."


	62. Chapter 62

The warlock sat down next to her and reached for her hand, only to sigh in disappointment when he couldn't connect to it. "Are you really here? Or am I just imagining this?"

"Does it matter? Tell me, what troubles you so greatly, my love?"

"Oh, just my destiny, as always." His eyes glazed over, looking off past the edge of the circle, the focus on his inner turmoil. After a moment he came back to himself with a sigh and turned to look at her. "I thought the last time we spoke it would be the last I would ever see you."

"And if you had known otherwise, would you have been willing to leave me and move on?"

"Who said I've moved on?" He replied sarcastically.

Freya chuckled, "You know you have in many ways, but now it is time to allow yourself to heal, much the same way you seek to heal your king, and to help Morgana as well."

Merlin laughed sardonically and shook his head. "My  _king_  has decided to arrange a marriage for me to Morgana."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

He shrugged. "My destiny with him..." His voice trailed off. "How can I marry her and be what she deserves?"

Freya laughed, her ethereal voice like the tinkling of shells strung up and hanging together in the wind. "You are forever tied to him, as you are to her." She waved her hand over the basin. The twilight colors swirled and mixed then shifted into the form of the triskell symbol of the druids. "Each one is only a piece that interlocks with others around it." The image shrunk, but each coil became the base on which another triskell formed. "These are just images, representations of our perspective of the truth."

"I had a dream where the image was two tear drops, and Arthur's crown was the circle that bound us…"

"Not everything can be taken literally. We are not meant for just one coin, or one task – it is a web that is continuously being rewoven. The symbols come to us to help guide us, but they are not the reality in which we live. Did you not tell Kilgharrah so much earlier this day?"

He cast his mind back to that morning. "I told him his interpretations were wrong..." Merlin groaned and fell back onto the ground, laughing and cursing silently at himself as realization began to dawn on him. "But, what am I to do when I once again have to choose between him and the woman I love. I chose you and it got you killed. I chose to save her and all of Camelot paid for it in a way I could not have foreseen and I lost you both."

"You also chose Camelot and Arthur many times, too," She pointed out. "You cannot blame your destiny for a choice that was my own. I wanted to save not only you, but myself from the shame and guilt of all I had done."

"Freya, you were cursed.  It was not your fault…"

"Neither is it yours. I left the catacombs that night, because I knew that if I ever turned on you I couldn't bear to live with myself. It was my time, my choosing to be done with the curse.  You gave me the courage to understand I didn't have to be that beast anymore. It had nothing to do with your destiny. Do you think your friends also followed some great path that was laid out, or is it something else?"

"What do you mean?"

She didn't answer him.

"So what am I supposed to do about Morgana?"

"What is it you want?"

Merlin smirked, his thoughts turning inward.

"Have you ever actually told her all that you feel?"

He nodded. "Once. Here actually, the first day she was released from her nightmare."

"And then what happened?"

"I spent a month..." He paused and inhaled the smells of the night. A dim glow was reflecting off the surface of the basin from the rising moon. Quietly he spoke again, "...A beautifully peaceful month helping her, being with her, and not fully worrying about anything else really."

"Did your destiny intervene? Did all of Camelot fall without you there, while you were taking care of not only her, but yourself as well?"

His eyes shifted toward the woman he once loved. Suddenly uneasy, he scratched at the back of his neck and looked at the sky. "I just don't want to lose either of them…"

"Even abstaining from a choice is still a choice. Look at your friends. Was Sir Leon given a great destiny to sacrifice himself for the king? Will Sir Percival stay behind because he has a new wife when you go?"

"No," he answered softly.

"You may not have the build or the skills as a knight, but if you did, if you had known you were born as a nobleman – would you have vowed and sworn your fealty to King Arthur?"

"Of course I would!" He spoke without hesitation. "Well maybe not at first…"

"Your destiny simply set you upon the path you would not have been given a chance to follow otherwise. Before you, those who became knights were born into the nobility.  They grew up knowing that the king would come before all others. Wives, parents, children, it is the way of life they have chosen. "

He was beginning to see her meaning. He was as bad as Kilgharrah with the way he was looking at things – his mind already biased towards his own beliefs of the future.

Freya smiled at him, her large brown doe eyes glistening as they turned towards the edge of the grove. "I must bid you goodbye, my love." She was beginning to fade, her features shimmering like dew on spider webs catching the moonlight. A lithe hand stretched towards him, as if able to brush the delicate fingers along his cheek.

He didn't say anything in response. His blue eyes focused on the place she sat as she disappeared. He lay there on the cooling earth, feeling its pulse underneath him as the world thrived and thrummed with life. He allowed his eyes to close as he focused on what she had helped him to see. Even when he had returned to the cave for the second time, he had been looking at the visions with his first impression and emotions.

He linked his hands under his head and allowed the images to flow over him, this time with an open mind.

* * *

 

He had walked out. She couldn't believe it. He really had just walked out. Not that she blamed him after the stunt Arthur just pulled on them both. Morgana felt her rage building at both men, but she noticed all the eyes on her, waiting with baited breath to see what she would do after the man she now found herself betrothed to had just…walked…out. She turned away and schooled her features, smoothing down her dress and taking a breath. She smiled coolly at Arthur. "Well, thank you very much for possibly completely ruining my life."

Arthur glared at her. "That was not my intention, Morgana."

Gwen by this time had left her seat to join the two. "What happened? Where did Merlin go?"

"For a walk," Morgana said, as pleasantly as she could manage.

The queen smirked, noticing the undertone of anger. "Well then, I suppose we should all go for a walk as well. We have many things to discuss in private about the upcoming wedding," She said in an even toned, regal voice. Her eyes betrayed the truth that her first inclination was to let Arthur sort out his own mess. As Merlin constantly reminded them – her husband could be quite the cabbage head at times.  So, when she saw the warlock stalking out of the room, she knew she had to intervene before the situation became a downright disaster. She cast her eyes around the room and finally spotted George. Waving him over she spoke softly to him. "We shall be stepping out for a bit to discuss the wedding details in private, in case anyone asks."

"Of course, your majesty, I shall make certain the best of the feast is saved for your return," He responded with a curt nod and went back to his duties. Everyone in the hall had witness Merlin leaving and the exchange between the king and Morgana. These personal dramas weren't a foreign concept among them, so most people just turned away and went back to enjoying the food on the tables in front of them.

As they walked out of the hall they paused. Gwen looked at her husband and Morgana. "I don't suppose either of you have any idea where he would have gone?"

The two looked guiltily at each other, neither one having any real clue as to which way Merlin would have headed once outside the wall. A soft giggle suddenly grabbed their attention.

"Aithusa!" Morgana admonished, "Aren't you supposed to be with the other children?" All the kids earlier that evening had been rounded up for their own mini-feast in one of the rooms off the kitchen.

"Miss Rita was telling stories from where she grew up, and there was one I wanted to tell father about because I thought he might like it too. So, I was coming to find him. He's down at the grove with the Lady of the Lake."

"Lady of the Lake?" Morgana asked. She had heard the title before, but to her knowledge had no other information about this woman.

"He loved her before she died, but they still talk sometimes," The pale girl stated in a casual tone.

Morgana felt a tendril of jealousy that Merlin would be speaking with a dead woman instead of her. "Perhaps we should go and meet her as well, then," she said keeping the false smile in place as she held out her hand to Aithusa.

Gwen linked her arm around her husband's as they moved to follow the other two. "Do you know anything about this Lady?" She asked quietly.

Arthur shook his head. Like Morgana, he'd heard the name, but couldn't seem to place it.

The four of them made their way down the hill to the edge of the grove. Merlin was lying on his back, apparently taking a nap in the center. There was no one else around him.

"Well at least you finally discovered that sleeping thing you were so keen to figure out," Arthur stated loudly from the edge.

"I'm not sleeping, I'm thinking," Came the reply, "You should try it sometime, Sire."

Despite knowing he was awake, not a one of them encroached on the barrier of stones. Even Aithusa seemed reluctant to cross and held Morgana's hand tightly to prevent her mam from entering.

Merlin allowed the images he'd been revisiting to float away and pushed himself up off the ground. He cocked his head to the side with a smirk watching them for a moment standing at the edge. He chuckled and moved towards them. Arthur braced himself to retort to whatever cocky comment his friend might throw at his reluctance to step into the grove, but none came. He soon realized Merlin wasn't even looking at him, instead staring solely at Morgana as he approached.

Aithusa released her hold on Morgana and stepped quietly back as Merlin reached them.

Morgana was completely unprepared for what happened next.

In a quick and completely uncharacteristic motion Merlin grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. His lips hungrily planting on hers, in a nearly bruising rise of passion she was unaware he possessed. For a moment she thought about protesting, but the heat of his advances suddenly had her melting into him. Her arms entwined around his neck, pulling him deeper against her mouth as she opened slightly to him.

Arthur cleared his throat loudly, "So, I take it this means we will be planning for a wedding?"

Merlin reluctantly broke the kiss and took a breath, his eyes never leaving Morgana's. "I think so," he said with an arrogant smirk.

"And what makes you so sure I want to marry you?" Morgana asked, trying to regain her authoritative voice, but failed miserably as it came out more of a hoarse whisper.

Merlin grinned and leaned in for another kiss, this time soft and quicker than the previous one.

She sighed against his lips. "Fine, I guess I don't have a choice in the matter, do I."

"You always have a choice, Morgana," he said, looking at her with new eyes. He had gone over the visions again, and this time had realized the magic that flowed from her, although dark as he saw her face off against Maelgwn was not the blackness he originally took it for. Instead it was closer to an indigo, a color according to some of Gaius's old books Merlin had been studying for years was the color of intuition and rituals, though a bit on the dramatic side, and it fit her perfectly. He knew now he had to trust in that part of her to know how to handle this king while he finished his work with saving Arthur.

The king gave his wife a slightly crooked smile of triumph. "Good then if you agree, let's get back up to the feast and start working out the details."

Merlin scrunched his face and shook his head, glancing over the blond king. "No."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Color Indigo (from .empower-yourself-with-color-psychology dot com although many other sites share similar descriptions of this color)
> 
> The color of intuition, perception and the higher mind
> 
> The color indigo is the color of intuition and perception and is helpful in opening the third eye. It promotes deep concentration during times of introspection and meditation, helping you achieve deeper levels of consciousness. It is a color which relates to the "New Age" - the ability to use the Higher Mind to see beyond the normal senses with great powers of perception. It relies on intuition rather than gut feeling.
> 
> Indigo is a deep midnight blue. It is a combination of deep blue and violet and holds the attributes of both these colors.
> 
> Service to humanity is one of the strengths of the color indigo. Powerful and dignified, indigo conveys integrity and deep sincerity
> 
> The color meaning of indigo reflects great devotion, wisdom and justice along with fairness and impartiality. It is a defender of people's rights to the end.
> 
> Structure creates identity and meaning for indigo. In fact an indigo person cannot function without structure - it throws them right off balance. Organization is very important to them and they can be quite inflexible when it comes to order in their lives.
> 
> Indigo loves rituals and traditions, religion and the institutional system, conforming to things that have worked in the past while planning for the future.
> 
> Indigo stimulates right brain or creative activity and helps with spatial skills. It is a dramatic color relating to the world of the theater, which, during times of stress becomes the drama queen, making a mountain out of a molehill!
> 
> The negative color meaning of indigo relates to fanaticism and addiction. Its addiction encompasses everything from a need for recognized qualifications to a need for illegal drugs, from the workaholic to the religious fanatic.
> 
> Indigo can be narrow-minded, intolerant and prejudiced.


	63. Chapter 63

"You were right in contacting me, child."

Emma practically beamed at the compliment. When she used the mirror to send a message as Lady Thea had originally intended her to do, the young servant had not expected to see the Queen's former maid servant, Sefa, in the forest outside of Camelot as they finally met. Emma knew the other girl had been tried and then escaped before she could be punished for treason, but had no idea of the power that Sefa possessed. It was quickly brought to her attention however, that the druid traitor was not in control of the body anymore.

Morgause evaluated the street rat turned servant in front of her. The girl had nothing but a desire for vengeance and reward. So very typical of this type of filth, the dark spirit thought. She had spent the last few months recovering in a cave deep under the White Mountains. When that stupid girl had interfered with the spell casting on the dragon stone, causing the power within it to explode, much of Morgause's magic had been sucked out with it. The cruel woman knew it would still take much more time to regain that level of power back than what had passed. But that is not what really plagued her. She had regained enough of her magic to be a formidable opponent.

The bite from the sword, a magical blade, and the only thing that could truly kill a spirit like hers, was still tender and a bit raw. How the king had managed to get to her so quickly was still a mystery, and she was thankful that he hadn't been able to make a clean strike against her. For now she just had to bide her time until she was strong enough to take her revenge and find her sister. "Tell me, why did the Lady Thea not contact me herself?"

"She had a change of heart. It was after she was imprisoned for being a part of the failed plot, and her husband finally decided to visit, her mind was changed. The bastard convinced her to trust in the king and wait for her son to be returned to her," Emma said in a snarling voice.

"Returned?" Morgause leveled a stare on the servant. "Was the knight's body taken somewhere?"

The girl nodded. "I believe he is being kept at the Earl of Anjou's estate."

The dark priestess smiled coldly, "Ah, so that explains why they were there."

"Now would be the perfect time for us to take Camelot, Sefa. The royals have all left for the north, heading to Lord Emrys's lands and will not return for a while."

Morgause scowled at being called the name of the all but dead druid maid. "It is not Camelot I want, but revenge for me, my sister, and my son. The great citadel can burn to the ground for all I care." Her dark eyes glazed over. Taking Camelot while it was unprotected by Emrys and the king was a tempting prospect, but she had a feeling that it wouldn't be as simple as the idiot serving girl assumed. Perhaps, if she was healed and at her full strength she would be able to find a way, however it would take time to build an army strong enough. For now she would just have to sate her bloodlust with something smaller. "How certain are you that the knight's dying body is kept there?"

"Reasonably. The king and his cousin went there before the rest of the royal party left and had plans to catch up with them on the road. Also, their first trip there, with a wagon, was done about the same time his body disappeared," she eagerly responded, wanting to please the other woman.

Dark brown eyes smiled maliciously out of a face that was not her own. Even if she wasn't strong enough to exact the full measure of her hatred against all things Pendragon, this opportunity would at least show them she was still a threat. Lady Thea would be the first to feel her revenge for not doing as Morgause instructed with the mirror.

"Do you think we can do something to show them we mean business?" Emma asked impatiently.

Morgause looked at the girl curiously, "We?" She sauntered over to the girl with a dark chuckle in her voice, "My darling Emma, you have served your purpose. I don't care about your petty grievances. Now that you have given me the information I want, you are nothing more than a filthy little beggar with no purpose."

The witch's eyes glowed before Emma could respond and the girl was thrown back against some rocks. Her head hitting a sharp edge and she slumped into eternal sleep.

Morgause turned back to her scrying crystals and was immediately overwhelmed by strong, unseen forces. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath. After a few moments the feeling subsided. She wasn't sure if it was her still weakened magic that caused the dizziness or something else more powerful.

* * *

 

"What the hell do you mean, 'no'?" Arthur stammered.

Morgana looked taken aback by what seemed like a sudden change of heart. Her mind was echoing Arthur's question.

"I mean," he turned back to Morgana sensing her unease, "I don't want to wait. I don't want to lose this moment and become distracted, or get into another row with you where we both get too pissed to see our way out."

Her eyes were wide, never straying from his as he spoke. "Oh…"

"If we're going to do this," He released his grip on her waist and took her hands in his. He brought them up and kissed her knuckles, "I want to do it right here, right now. No waiting and planning, or anything else that could mess it all up."

"No, Merlin, you are a lord now. Things like this can't just be done in the spur of the moment!" Arthur protested. "I'm sure Morgana wants a nice dress… and what about all of the knights and everyone back up in the keep? What about Gwaine? Think about what Gwaine would say!"

The warlock cast a curious gaze on the king, before turning back to Morgana. His eyebrows were raised in a questioning look. As much as he wanted to argue, he chose to leave the decision to her.

Before her stood, not Merlin exactly, but the embodiment of Emrys as the druids described him. The true immortal soul reborn into the quirky, lovable, and infuriating man she had come to know. She smiled up into his blue eyes. "I don't need a dress." She knew Merlin was right, if they waited it could potentially lead to trouble. Stretching up she met him in another intoxicating kiss.

Arthur sputtered in disapproval, "We can't… it's not…" A growl emanated from him.

Gwen was chuckling, trying to figure out what was going on in her husband's mind. "What difference does it make if they speak their vows here, with just us to witness or in a few days' time when we are already stressed from everything else?"

"It matters, because I already sent out the invitation!" He spat out then snapped his mouth closed, realizing what he'd said out loud.

"What invitation?" Morgana asked suspiciously.

All eyes were on the king waiting for him to explain. He took a breath and stood firm. His chin rose, "I felt, in order to garner a treaty with this King Maelgwn, I would invite him to your wedding." He faltered slightly, "I…um… already sent Gilli off this morning with the message."

"You did what?" Morgana yelled her eyes wide in shock.

Gwen groaned, "Oh, Arthur, why would you do such a thing without knowing if your arrangement would even be accepted?"

They were stunned when Merlin began to laugh. He shook his head. "Well then, he'll just have to be content with a celebratory feast when he arrives, because tonight, under the full moon, in this magical grove, I plan on marrying a beautiful woman." The dark-haired warlock whispered a spell and stones that had become shadowed outlines in the deepening twilight began glowing with an iridescent light. He stepped backwards, Morgana's hands still in his and led her to the center.

"What has gotten into you?" She asked. "I'm not arguing, but something changed."

He kept silent, but cast his gaze around the grove and sent a quiet pulse of magical thought to her, imploring her to feel the magic around them. Since he first arrived with Gwaine, not quite a year before, he felt a connection to the area. Inside the circle it felt stronger to him than any other place he had visited.

Aithusa squealed in delight and skipped after them. The queen chuckled and patted her husband's arm before following. Arthur stood at the edge, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, unable to formulate a response to Merlin's proclamation.

From the center of the ring Merlin called to him. "Will you quit being such a  _girl_  and just get in here so I can close the circle."

Arthur gave him a dark scowl. The last two times he had entered this grove were not exactly the most pleasant experiences he had encountered. The first time to see Merlin falling flat on his face and then following as they were whisked away by some magical force and forced to view the past. The second time he was on death's doorstep and had only awakened to see the commander of his forces, one of his greatest friend's and ally's, laid out seemingly dead next to him. He shivered internally, reluctance in his every step as he crossed the boundary. He felt the magic flare behind him and startled. Merlin was smirking from the center. "You did that on purpose," he accused as he came alongside his wife and Aithusa.

"Perhaps," The warlock laughed. He turned back to Morgana, his face was soft. The depth of his blue eyes was drawing her into his magical pull.

The world around them seemed to slow, and at first what Arthur thought were mere fireflies darting about actually turned out to be tiny winged humanoids. The little creatures filled into the circle dancing around them all.  _IF_  they got out of here alive, the king's first thought was to sorrowfully make Morgana a widow.

Merlin caressed the cheek of his beautiful bride and began to speak to her. "I have cared for you for longer than I can say. I have done unspeakable things, and you have forgiven me. You give me a place to come home to, wherever you are. I think of you and you bring me every emotion ever conceived, but most of all you bring me a sense of peace and of love. It is something I should have told you before, but I was a coward," He heard Arthur mutter incoherently and had to steel himself against making a comment in return. He bit the inside of his cheek against a chuckle when he heard the king's grunt from Gwen's elbow jabbing into his side. Taking a breath he continued, "And I felt I was unworthy of you. I hope now I am someone you can trust and love, someone who will trust in you and all that you can bring to me."

Her lip was trembling and tears of joy filled her eyes. She leaned her face against his palm and placed her own slender hand on his chest. "Merlin, you drive me absolutely crazy!" His eyes lit up with silent laughter. "But you have done so much to try and bring me hope when I needed it. Your love is so strong for those around you, that it literally killed me."

His eyes darkened a bit, wondering where she was going with this.

"You did the impossible though, and brought me back to life. You could have done it sooner, but I forgive you for that as well," she said with a teasing gleam in her eyes.

"There are two amazing gifts you have given me that I can never repay." She glanced over at Aithusa and smiled proudly, "A little dragon that kept me from completely losing myself, and your love to draw me back from the edge." Her breathing was uneven, and she looked away from his eyes, staring at her hand, feeling his racing heart through his shirt. "I have never said the words and really meant them since the last time I saw my father, but I say them to you now and I mean them with every ounce of my being."

He patiently waited as she closed her eyes and searched for the courage to say what she felt out loud.

Arthur was becoming even more anxious the longer he had to stand in this mystical place. He coughed lightly into his fist, "I think you want to say 'I love you, Merlin.'" The strained smile on his face showing that he was only trying to help. His words were followed by an 'ow' as he was elbowed again.

"Thank you, Arthur. But this is neither the time nor the place for you to finally confess your feelings towards me. I'm trying to get married here, you dollop head, and your wife is standing right next to you," Merlin said out of the side of his mouth. "Ow!" He flinched as Morgana slapped his shoulder.

Her lips were in a tight pout and her green eyes stared at him in irritation. She couldn't stay mad though as he looked at her again with his laughing eyes and bright smile that filled his face and accentuated his high cheek-bones. Sighing, she knew her brother was right, "I love you, Merlin. I have for so long. I love you for everything you have done, and everything you are."

Merlin couldn't stop himself as he leaned in and kissed her once again. As their lips touched the magic of the night, the blessings of the full moon, and powers of the old religion that danced in the sacred grove rose up to give their silent consent to the pair. They pulled back slightly and words were given to their minds from the ancient ways long forgotten. Their eyes became lit with the golden fires as they spoke together in the words of magic, "Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done."*

For that moment, even the faerie folk seemed to pause and drink in the power that had been awakened. Aithusa watched on silent and still, her smile revealing that she understood this moment, possibly more than the two she had chosen as her parents could grasp.

Even Arthur in all his skepticism couldn't deny the power that drew these two people together. He smirked to himself recalling the first time he caught Merlin trying to sneak flowers to Morgana. It seemed like such a lifetime ago. He glanced down at his own wife and noticed her crying. Memories of Merlin and Morgana's love filling them both in a subtle way, unlike the assault of images during his first experience. His arm wrapped around her shoulders and when it did, Gwen felt like a weight had been lifted off of her, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

A part of Arthur still worried about the invitation he had sent out and how he was going to now deal with this other king, but he couldn't deny that perhaps –  _just this once,_  he thought with silent mirth at his old fall back catch phrase – Merlin was right in not waiting.


	64. Chapter 64

 

It wasn't a castle, at least not like any Gilli had ever seen, and in his constant travels, before finding himself finagled into his new job as manservant, he'd viewed his fair share. Although, Camelot was still the only one he had ever entered. This place was more like a large encampment and the main quarters of the 'castle' seemed more akin to a longhouse made from a mixture of stone and timber.

None of the guards appeared surprised by the visitors. In fact, Gilli had the sneaking suspicion they were completely expected. He swallowed down the nervous lump in his throat and went inside to present King Maelgwn with Arthur's missive. He had a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

 

The first thing he realized was that he was naked. The next was that his arm was seriously tingling from the nerves and blood flow being staunched by an unusual weight. His eyes opened to see the wall near the bed first. They lit on the tapestry that hung there and the picture of the two most important girls in his life. The previous night began to creep into his consciousness. The five of them walked back to the keep after the power had climaxed and begun to dissipate. When they arrived, Arthur was acting like a boy who'd been given his first sword. He was so anxious to spread the news of the nuptials he had just witnessed and turn the feast into a full out celebration. Despite his constant complaints of the magic that he swore was still following him. Meanwhile Merlin was coming down from the magical high and he began to dread the attention such an announcement would bring. He would have rather just taken his new bride straight to her room and rejoiced in their new status privately.

He'd watched Gwen, something about being inside the circle and the powerful flow of magic had altered her. A slight shadow, he hadn't even recognized because it had been there so long, was gone. Mead and wine flowed freely and the new couple was inundated with congratulations from everyone. Gwaine, as expected, acted hurt and even betrayed at not being invited, but Merlin could tell it was all a farce, especially when the roguish man began leading the hall in rowdy tavern songs about marriage and women, or some such nonsense.

Aithusa sat with them for a while, really wanting to speak with her father, but between all the cups of drink and singing and general merriment the girl finally grew bored and tired – falling asleep in the chair next to Merlin. At Clarissant's insistence, although it didn't take much, Percival gathered up the girl, saying she could stay with them and Haddy for the night. After what seemed like far too long, Merlin finally managed to excuse himself and his new bride from the hall where they snuck off to Morgana's room.

His gaze shifted to the weight on his arm. Her hand was curled around his elbow and a black cascade of hair fell around her face. Her head was using his bicep for a pillow. Although extremely uncomfortable physically, it was also the most comforting feeling in the world to him. He heard the door unlatch quietly and magically brought up the covers to hide their indecency before turning his head to see who it was.

George had crept in and was setting up the table with a bountiful breakfast, making sure not to look towards the bed.

"Pst…" Merlin hissed to try and get the servant's attention.

George looked up and saw the warlock awake. He came to the bed so Merlin could speak quietly, "In my pack, where ever that is, there is a small cloth pouch with a silk cord. I need you to get it and place it on her plate for me."

The servant smiled gleefully and nodded, quickly moving to take care of the task.

Merlin rolled back to the sleeping woman and just watched her softly breathing while she slept. No sooner had the door closed behind them the night before and she had pounced on him. They spent the rest of the night, until the first hint of dawn began changing the sky outside, exploring each other and relishing in the magical bond created between them. He could honestly say he had never felt more satisfied in all his life. And her closeness at the moment, left him craving more.

Reaching over, he gently brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. She moaned softly and began to stir. Merlin pulled his hand away, unwilling to wake her just yet. He bit his lip against the pins and needles sensation that began to flood down his arm and into his fingers when she shifted. He tried to flex them slowly to encourage the returning blood flow.

Finally, he heard George return and quickly finished setting the table. Merlin smiled when the servant nodded and placed the pouch where he was instructed before starting the fire and then leaving the room.

Alone again, his fingers caught her hair and swept it aside, barring her pale neck. He began leaving a damp trail of light kisses along its length.

Her breath came out in a soft moan and shivers ran up her spine, although she remained asleep. Feeling playful, Merlin deepened his kisses and his free hand began to move under the blankets, pulling her close against him. Her eyes fluttered open. "Good morning," he said with a smirk before assaulting her with a deep kiss…

* * *

 

After the fun of waking his wife, Merlin had reluctantly crawled out of the bed and began to dress, pulling on his trousers and a simple tunic. He realized with a jolt, that he would need to find a rug or skin for the room, as his feet cramped from hitting the frigid stone floor.

Morgana watched him, her own body still quivering from the intensity of their love making. She didn't trust her legs, which had become nothing more than boneless jelly, to support her if she decided to stand. A snicker erupted as she watched him attempt to tip toe over to the table so the least amount of surface on the bottom of his feet had to touch the floor. It turned into full out laughter as he almost tripped over his own shadow. Underneath all the power and confidence that was the embodiment of Emrys, the fact that he was still Merlin was very much evident.

He threw a purposeful scowl at his new wife and sat down at the table. "If you're going to laugh at me, then I might not bring you breakfast in bed. I'll just stay over here and eat it all myself."

"You eat it all yourself and you may need to borrow Arthur's belt," she teased. Although she knew there was hardly an ounce of fat anywhere on his body, and doubted there ever would be. No matter how noble-like his appetite may become. He stuck his nose in the air and turned toward the table, feigning hurt, which only served to make her laugh harder. She rolled and tried to sit up, the covers falling away from her upper body.

Out of his peripheral vision he saw it and turned to gaze at her lustfully.

"You could be a gentleman and get me something to wear, you know," she admonished but didn't move to conceal her bare breasts.

Smirking he grabbed the plate in front of him, adding some of the cold meat and cheeses from the table onto it, and brought it over to her.

"I can't wear food, Merlin… well, I could but…"

He sat the plate down and picked up the pouch that was sitting in the center of the plate. "I know, but maybe you can wear this."

She eyed the bag suspiciously for a moment before snatching it up, anxious to see what was inside. She poured its contents into her hand and gasped when she saw the pendant. Morgana could sense the echo of power it once held.

He took it from her hand and helped her put it around her neck. He pulled her hair up from underneath the silk cord that it hung from. "This is the only piece left from the dragon stone," he said, his mood shifting slightly with a hint of sadness, recalling the red dragon. He looked at where it hung, surrounded by smooth metal on the bare skin in her cleavage.

"I thought it was destroyed?" She asked softly.

"Me too, but Lady Clarissant went back in and found this one piece. She then made the setting for it and gave it to me on her wedding day. I've tried to see if the magic is left, and there is a little.  You won't be able to control dragons with it, but you might be able to speak to them over distances if need be."

"To a dragon, or a Dragon Lord?" She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears of joy that threatened from receiving such a gift. He shrugged and she threw her arms around his neck.

He held her tightly against him, burying his face into her dark tresses. He pushed her back and grinned. "Come on, need to eat and dress, then we need to go take care of something."

She reached for one of the cold meat slices. "Take care of what?"

He stood up and paced around with a nervous air about him. His hand was alternating between rubbing the back of his neck and raking through his hair. Although he was now more certain that Morgana would be able to handle the local king, he wanted to try and give her a distinct edge against him if things turned south. It was not only her that would be left here when he and the knights and king departed, and it was his responsibility to see that they would be safe.

He could tell Arthur was the most concerned, especially after the wedding last night. They discussed briefly about a celebration feast, or perhaps even another more formal ceremony. Well Arthur had, Merlin rolled his eyes at that, he got the feeling that this Maelgwn would be upset either way simply for the want of a fight. Giving her the pendant was part of his plan he'd come up with last night. The other part would require something he wasn't sure if he was ready for. A bit of fast-talking, maybe a humble-ish apology for abusing his power the previous morning… well, he'd determine how to handle that if they got that far in the conversation with the old riddling dragon.

"I know you've met Kilgharrah with Aithusa, but I think it's time you were both actually introduced to each other, properly like. I mean – you're my wife now…" he paused and gazed off for a moment as if his own words finally caught up to his consciousness. "Oh gods… I'm married. I mean,  _we're_  married. Oh… wow."

Morgana was reeling with giggles as she watched his face, and his ears that were sticking out through a mess of black hair, turn bright red with embarrassment.


	65. Ducks

George had told her to stay out in the hall and not to bother her parents. She wasn't used to not going where she wanted, when she wanted, in her own home. Haddy finally found her sitting with her back against the wall, across from the door. Her hands were resting on her knees and supporting her chin. There were odd noises from behind the door and she desperately wanted to find out if her father and mam were alright.

"What do you think they're doing in there?" She asked her friend. He seemed to know a lot more about this stuff than she did.

Haddy scrunched his face and rolled his dark eyes, "That's what my mum and step-father used to sound like. Trust me; you don't want to go in there."

"But what are they doing? I don't want them to hurt each other again!" She cried softly.

"Probably making babies," he stated casually as if he completely understood what that meant.

"Sounds like it hurts," she pouted, not grasping the answer.

"I saw my aunt have a baby, and it was gross," He shivered and made a gagging motion.

"So they make sounds like that then they have a baby?" Her nose crinkled in a way very similar to Morgana's.

Haddy nodded solemnly.

"I thought babies came from eggs. I did!" She told him flatly.

Haddy giggled at her ignorance, "Did not, babies come from their mum's tummies, duh."

"Did so, my father named me and I came out of an egg!" She held her chin in the air defiantly.

"No way, that's so stupid."

"What are you two doing?" Clarissant's voice came from the end of the hall.

The girl stood up next to the boy she was no longer considering as her friend and sniffled loudly at the emotional cut, "Haddy just called me stupid because I told him babies come from eggs."

"I did not call you stupid. And they do not!"

"Did too! Do too!"

"DO NOT!"

"Alright, both of you that's enough," The woman admonished. "Aithusa, you are a dragon and you did come from an egg, I think." Although she was in no way an expert on dragons, it sounded like something she had heard, "But Haddy is right too, other babies come from their mother's."

"Told you so," The little boy stuck his tongue out at his friend.

"What about ducks? They have babies that come from eggs." The little girl smiled proudly that she had been able to make the connection.

Haddy begin laughing, "You're a duck!"

"Am not! Take that back!" Aithusa yelled.

Suddenly the door across from them opened. Merlin came out looking a bit of a mess in a crumbled shirt and twisted trousers. His hair was sticking up in unnatural directions as he tried to figure out what his daughter was yelling for.

"Father, Haddy called me a duck!"

"Huh?" Merlin looked at Clarissant for some sort of explanation.

"She's worried about you and Morgana. Haddy tried to tell her what the uh… sounds were in your room."

Merlin instantly became completely self-conscious about the state of his appearance accompanied with the embarrassment of what might have been heard outside Morgana's door. "What does that have to do with ducks?" He questioned, not comprehending the reference, although a bit curious about what he and Morgana did sound like to the outside world..

"And then he told me I was stupid and called me a duck," The dragon girl added with a scowl at her former friend.

"Ah, well," he tried clearing his throat, "Aithusa you are not a duck, you are a dragon. As for the sounds… your mam and I were just… uh…" Merlin was at a total loss for how to finish that sentence. Panic began to set in.

Morgana had finally extracted herself from the bed and appeared at the door with a robe held tightly around her, "What's going on?"

Aithusa sighed happily, finally here was someone who could give her the answers she craved, "Were you and father making babies or making eggs?"


	66. Chapter 66

It was all Clarissant could do to keep herself from crumbling in hysterical laughter. Merlin was wide eyed and shocked into utter silence. Morgana appeared to be confused more than anything else, not having a clue what one had to do with the other, or why Aithusa would be asking such a thing.

Unbeknownst to them all, the king and queen were hidden just behind the door to what was previously Merlin's room. He had offered the royal couple its use upon arriving at the keep. They had it cracked open and were eavesdropping since just around the time Clarissant had come upon the children. Their faces were red with contained laughter. Gwen couldn't control it after the latest question Aithusa threw at them and blurted out a loud and very un-regal cackle.

"Oy, you think you can do a better job at answering this,  _My Lady_?" Merlin called out to her in challenge, realizing they were there.

Gwen's lips were pinched tightly together as she exposed her and Arthur's hiding place. If there was one thing she had learned over the years with her husband, a lesson she had unconsciously taken from Merlin, was that if he was pressing for answers to awkward questions it was easier to deflect and distract than to meet the king head on. During the weeks the young dragon had been a part of the daily life in Camelot, the queen realized how similar some of the thought processes were between her and the king.

"Aithusa, perhaps we can sit down and all talk about this later. Right now, I need to speak with your mother about a few things I'm certain you'd find rather boring. So, why don't you…" she paused trying to think of something that would easily entertain the children for a while. "Oh I've got it. You should take young Galahad down to the grove and show him the fairies, maybe try to catch one or two?"

Two sets of eyes lit up with amazement, their previous argument all but forgotten as they rushed off.

"Hey, take Loholt, or one of the cook's boys with you!" Merlin called after them. He was more than thankful for Gwen's quick thinking, and although he knew Aithusa would be fine, Galahad was still a very human little boy that could find himself in a lot of trouble. "And be nice if you do catch them!"

The pale girl skidded to a stop just before the stairs. "Oh, Father, I wanted to tell you, Miss Rita told us a story last night from where she was born about a giant…"

"Come on, Duck, I want to see the fairies!" Haddy's voice interrupted from half-way down the stairs.

"I'm not a DUCK!" She appeared torn between finishing the story and running after the little boy.

"Are too!"

She bit her lip and cast one last look at her father before racing after Haddy when he made a quacking sound followed by his laughter. She figured she would just have to tell her father about the story later. "I'm going to turn you into a duck!"

"Don't be turning anybody into anything Aithusa!" Morgana yelled after the girl. She still wasn't certain what was happening and she cast her glance around the other four adults accusingly. "I don't know what that was about, but if that's the type of thing you were letting her get away with in Camelot…so help me!" She pointed a threatening finger at her husband.

Merlin pursed his lips, irritation coming to the forefront. He attempted a short explanation, "She… heard sounds and Haddy was telling her what…  _they_ … were." He managed with as little embarrassment as he could manage.

"Heard… sounds?" Her green eyes flitted upward, evaluating her husband with a look of suspicion.

"Well don't look at me, you were the one who…"

"Shut up, Merlin," she growled at him while backhanding him across his bicep.

"Ow," He tried to respond further but was interrupted as he felt a hand whack his head. "Ow!"

"Quit being such a girl, Merlin," Arthur said grinning. "Go get yourself dressed.  We need to start talking about our plans." The king smiled and nodded at the ladies before moving off down the hall still chuckling.

Merlin turned even a brighter shade of red, if that was even possible, and with a grumble about self-serving prats not allowing him a day off. He turned back into the room to finish dressing.

Morgana and the other two ladies glanced at each other before bursting out in fits of giggles. It seemed like not a minute later, Merlin- in a more presentable state with boots, a fresh shirt, and a jacket over the top - came back out. His mouth was full of a large chunk of bread as he nodded and began heading after Arthur.

Morgana gasped in disbelief at him, but it was Gwen who loudly cleared her throat to get the warlock's attention. "Aren't you forgetting something, Merlin?"

He spun to look at the queen, a quick glance down at himself and he still wasn't sure what she meant. Then he caught the slight nod of her head towards Morgana. His face was screwed in confusion. He had planned to take her to see Kilgharrah, but uncertain if he was ready to try and find some sort of peace with the old dragon just yet. Instead he was thankful for the diversion the king offered. Other than that, he couldn't figure out what she meant. Biting off the bread he saw Morgana tapping her foot impatiently and it dawned on him what the queen was inferring.

He swallowed a rather large piece of the loaf and nearly choked on it before offering his wife a guilty smile. He moved towards her and instead of the quick peck of goodbye she expected, he enraptured her in a heated kiss that promised much more of the 'noise-making' later on when they were alone.

Morgana was left swooning breathlessly as he stood back and winked before backing away and knocking his shoulder against a protruding support pillar. He almost lost his feet, and the rest of his bread, before regaining his composure and trotting towards the stairs after Arthur.

Gwen was still fighting off the laughter. "Well, marriage obviously hasn't changed him."

"Although, that kiss…" Clarissant fanned her face with her hand and blushed.

After more girlish giggles Morgana sighed and pushed a hand through her hair. Or at least she tried to before noticing the massive knots and tangles. Gwen caught sight of it as well, and the former maid in her kicked in. "Let's go see if we can get that brushed out for you. Clarissant, would you be so kind as to go find Lady Vivienne, I actually would like to speak with the three of you. Perhaps see if George is about and can bring us all some wine, as well."

Clarissant smiled and nodded while Gwen ushered Morgana into the room.

The queen sat Morgana in a chair at the table and began searching for a hairbrush. "It sounded like the two of you enjoyed your wedding night," Gwen commented with a teasing smirk.

Morgana's eyes shot open and she flushed, realizing that Gwen and Arthur were staying in the room next door. "Did you… were we really that loud?" Her shoulders hunched over and she slouched in her seat wishing she could make herself invisible.

The darker skinned woman chuckled, "Well, a bit. However, Arthur and I were busy making our own noises, too."

Morgana met her friend's eyes. "You don't seem to have the sadness about it that you did before?"

Gwen smiled and began to work the tangles out of the silky, raven-colored locks. "It's strange, I feel so much freer than I did before. That's why I want to speak with your mother again. Arthur and I have always had good relations, but I've never been a part of such magic before that I know of, and last night…" She trailed off recalling the power and beauty that had surrounded them. Her hands stilled on Morgana's hair.

The former witch placed her hand on Gwen's and was suddenly pulled into a vision.

_The corridor was dark; she had snuck out of the main castle, down into the gated catacombs below the city. The nightmares had become an ever increasing source of panic. She knew her sister would be furious with the revelation the dreams brought her, even with the magical bracelet meant to stop such things. After hearing Uther's confession to Gaius through her pain addled mind, this could certainly throw a wrench into Morgause's plans…_

Morgana gasped for air, feeling like she her head had just broken free from ice water. In the thralls of the vision, she hadn't realized that Clarissant had returned with Vivienne. The elder woman sat next to her, making certain the other two did not disturb her daughter's trance-like state. Gwen was wringing her hands with worry and chewing on her bottom lip.

"What did you see, child?" Vivienne asked calmly.

Morgana shivered and tried to pull the robe tighter around her shoulders, "It was after…after Morgause brought me back. I was telling her about my dream of Gwen becoming queen. She was encouraging me to find a way to stop it, but I think she may have done something more as her own insurance, because she knew Uther was my father and that I would be her way to the throne."

The older woman nodded. "It's alright now.  It was just a memory of what happened when you were under her influence." She turned to the queen. "I could find nothing that would cause your barrenness, and the fact you have never even miscarried is a good indication that there might have been a magical curse in place, as Morgana is suggesting."

"I saw this sister of yours control not only Bran, but the red dragon lady as well, all while holding a powerful illusion. I wouldn't be surprised if something like that was child's play to her," Clarissant added with a shudder, remembering her weeks under the evil woman.

"The power from last night and that you were in such a close proximity to it may have inadvertently lifted it," Vivienne continued to tell the queen.

Gwen smiled and her hands went to her belly in an unconscious gesture of hope. "Do you really think so?"

"Only time will tell," she answered evasively. Vivienne caught the slight hint of sadness that began returning to the queen. She smiled and reached out to give a gentle squeeze to Gwen's forearm. "It is a good thing to hope for though."

"She's not happy about it, she knows what happened…" Morgana's eyes were glazed over, and her voice seemed distant. "She's weak, so weak, but so full of anger and pain…"

"Morgana?" Gwen began to question hesitantly. She was stopped by Vivienne, who held up her hand, realizing her daughter was still being held by the trance.

"Where is she, child? Can you see her?"

Morgana shook her head; the movement was so slight it barely registered. "A life was taken at the moment the spell was cast and the blood sacrifice paid for the lives it kept from coming to be." Her eyes closed and she drew a sharp breath as the vision broke from her. Morgana's hand went immediately to the pendant that now hung around her neck. She felt comforted by its presence and she could feel the warm pulse of her husband's magic reaching through to her.  _Thank you_ , she sent as a mental whisper to him. This vision was completely unlike the nightmares she had suffered before. Although it still held the intensity of emotion, it was tempered by a thread of light that she could feel emanating from the stone around her neck as if it were a safety line, reminding her it wasn't her reality. Telling her she was no longer alone. She felt the cord of light cease abruptly.

* * *

 

"Merlin."

…

"Mer-lin?"

…

"MERLIN!"

He gasped in shock as the cold water hit his face. Sputtering and wiping his face with his sleeve, Merlin sent a glare towards the offending prat.


	67. Chapter 67

"I know you had a tiring night, but you need to wakey, wakey now!" The king said with a triumphant grin.

"I wasn't sleeping," he bit out through clenched teeth and a feral smile.

Gwaine sniggered, "What were you doing then, dancing? Because you know that's dangerous to others with you around."

Merlin rolled his eyes and sighed. What was he doing? He wondered for a moment. Arthur was talking about some logistics and sending out riders to towns along the coast to see if they would be able to obtain the boats they needed for the journey across to Ireland. It was rather boring, but then Merlin had felt a subtle pulling, almost a whisper of someone calling out to him. He then realized it had been Morgana. Although, he wasn't certain why, but it felt as if she was asking mentally for his hand to steady her as she skated the edge of a precipice. He concentrated on that feeling and sent out a warm reminder of his love to her. That warmth was soon doused in the cold water from the king's cup, but just before that happened he'd felt her come back from the edge.

Most of those in the room were laughing along with Gwaine's joke. Cai chuckled and just gave Merlin a knowing look. The far off, glazed appearance of the warlock's eyes was similar to when the younger man had experienced the vision of the pig. He raised an eyebrow towards his friend, who responded, unnoticed by the others, with a small shrug. It still amazed him how easily he'd come to befriend the warlock, even after the failed relationship with his sister. Arthur had grown up considerably since Cai was knighted by Uther years before, but the man was still purposefully ignorant of so many things, including the signs of noticing magic and visions.

Aside from the new link to Morgana, Merlin also felt as if there was something else he had missed and his mind was trying to wrap around what it was. He took a drink out of the cup in front of him and tuned back into the conversation.

* * *

 

Morgause watched the house closely, hidden in the shadows of the trees. She could feel the strong pulsing of sacred magic nearby, but as of yet had been unable to find the source. The girl would come and go from the forest nearby, although each time Morgause would search the area, she could find nothing. Whatever tracks the girl left were hidden by powerful magic, and the area all around her appeared to shift and change, making it impossible to find what she was looking for.

Occasionally, she would see another person, be they druid or Catha Priest, coming in and out from the forest. Unfortunately, she was unable to track them as well. The dark soul inside her was becoming restless and she longed to sate her need for vengeance. The knight was minor and she knew it was a petty thing, typically beneath her, but for now it was all she had. She was growing sick of her current form. It had served her well for what she needed, but the girl Lisanor was certainly much more pleasant and petite. Also, she thought vainly, her dark honey hair was preferably closer to what Morgause's own hair used to be.

Lisanor's ties to the king and Merlin were an added bonus that Morgause planned to take advantage of. A blood ritual sacrificing the knight would give the former priestess enough power to take over the girl's mind. With the other magical people around, Morgause was not about to act on impulse.

The next day the priestess found she had a way into the enchanted forest when one of the druids came out. It was a man she recognized as Bricius, he was the brother of Mordred's father. If she could get him alone, perhaps she could tell him of the fate that had befallen his brother in Camelot and also that of his nephew. Before she could act he'd gathered some supplies from Lisanor and disappeared back into the forest.


	68. Chapter 68

The rain was frigid, as it seeped into every fiber of his being. His arms were aching from being tied above his head to a pole set just outside the longhouse. Gilli tried to flex his hands, but all the sensation had long since drained from them. A couple men set to guard him were standing nearby under an overhanging roof. The young man felt he could use his magic to escape, but if he was unable to take on the two men he would soon find himself surrounded by the entire army and even if he could manage his way out of that he would still be stuck on an island. If he could be certain to reach at low tide, he might be able to get off it it, providing he didn't getting mired down by the mud and silt before it rose again, otherwise he would have to cross one of the bridges, which were probably now heavily guarded.

Gilli wasn't quite certain what happened to his two escorts. He had delivered the message to the king, who at first laughed, causing the entire hall to burst out in an uproar. Then, when he had stopped, everything went deathly quiet. Maelgwn's eyes roved over him, and Gilli had tried his best not to squirm under their scrutiny.

The king came up to him, hands clasped behind his back, holding the invitation. Face to face, Gilli almost laughed when he realized how short the man was, but thankfully kept himself in check. He was suddenly assaulted as Maelgwn slapped the parchment across Gilli's face.

"Your master thinks he can placate me with a silly wedding invite, boy! I am the king up here, the Lady Morgana was going to be mine, not this lord who takes off for some southern kingdom," He spat loudly, his rank breath nearly causing Gilli to take a step back.

"King Arthur would also like to meet with you to discuss a treaty..."

The wind was knocked out of him, and his words were cut off as Maelgwn's fist buried itself in his belly. After that it was a blur of seasoned warriors bearing down on the three men from Camelot. The young sorcerer didn't have time to put up a defense before he was knocked out. When he awoke, he was already tied to the post outside.

'Well, this is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into Gilli,' he thought sardonically.

One of the men guarding him realized their captive was awake and turned towards the door of the Longhouse. He went inside and when he came back out the king was with him.

"And my day just keeps getting better..." Gilli mumbled to himself.

"Morning!" Maelgwn offered him a smile. "I've decided to send you back home to your master in a day or so... whenever I get around to remembering to do it, with a present for the soon to be married Lord and Lady."

The boy raised his eyebrow quizzically, wondering about the change in the king, but he didn't verbally respond.

Maelgwn pointed to a spot just behind Gilli. The young man strained against the fatigue in his immobile arms to try and see what it was. As soon as he caught sight of it, he wished he hadn't turned around. The two men that accompanied him... or their heads at least, we stuck on poles sunk into the ground. A crow sat on top of one of them, picking at the open clouded eyes. Gilli gasped and shuddered.

"They weren't very forthcoming with any real information, at least none that I already didn't have. I'd expect as the servant to a king," Maelgwn said mockingly, "You probably won't give me much either. So I'll let the birds eat a bit then send you packing with your buddies. And you can tell your lord and king that they shouldn't anger the dragon. I will have that spiteful little filly, and I will enjoy breaking her. Maybe I'll even let you watch!"

He patted Gilli on the head as if he were a prized pet before sauntering away laughing.

The young man took a shaky breath before collapsing against the ropes that bound him. This was certainly not what he expected when Arthur sent him off to deliver a wedding invitation.

It was near dusk when a man came up to Gilli and untied the ropes. His arms fell to his sides, barely usable from the long hours stretched above his head. The young man took his first deep breath since before he had been knocked unconscious. A woman came up to him, dirty and timid, to offer him water and stale bread. He vaguely noticed his horse getting packed up with two head-sized bags hanging off the back of the saddle.

Maelgwn strolled up with his typical smirk. "Well, I suppose you better be off so you don't arrive late with my gift for the lord and lady." He began to move away, using a knife to casually clean his fingernails. "Oh, and let them know the Dragon will be descending upon them soon."

Gilli couldn't help the snicker that escaped him, wondering if the man had any clue in his delusions of what he was up against, or moreso what a real dragon even looked like. Although the only dragons Gilli had seen were on the crest of Camelot and of course Aithusa.

Instantly the man spun back around and Gilli found the knife being pressed against his throat. "You think that's funny boy?"

He gulped audibly and weighed his options. He finally shook his head, realizing that for the moment it might be best not to taunt the unstable short man, but he couldn't stop his voice entirely, "No, sire. Just wondering why a dragon would want to go after the Dragon Lord."

Maelgwn's eyes were narrowed as he evaluated the boy. He suddenly began laughing and pulled the knife back. Flipping it over in his hand and then sheathed it. "Dragon lord? Is that what the fair Lord Emrys thinks of himself? I'm the Dragon KING, your Lord will bow before me."

With that he left Gilli standing in the mud. A boy came over and handed the reins of the prepared horse to him and then scampered away.

* * *

 

The meeting just seemed to drag on for Merlin. Everything that was said had already been talked about. For the moment there was nothing more they could do logistically that hadn't been previously set in motion. If all went well, Gilli would arrive back either late in the evening or tomorrow. As would many of the others the king sent out to try and secure passage across the strait. His mind began to wander and a sly little smile played across his lips as he thought about his new bride.

Part of him had wanted to rush out of the room when he'd first felt the pull through the bond, but he knew logically she was just upstairs and was perfectly safe now that the vision had passed. It was something he couldn't wait to ask her about and he kept wishing that Arthur wouldn't be so long-winded. Finally, just as the warlock was about to lose complete interest, the topic turned from getting to Ireland to what they might actually find over there.

Bran began talking more about the giants. It seemed that when Matholwch held the cauldron and Bran's sister he'd given it to a couple of giants he had enslaved and ordered them to cook from it a feast for all his warriors. After the battle in which Bran's body had been severed, Bran had no knowledge of the fate that had befallen the cauldron.

Percival looked around. "Well, we can always ask Rita if she knows anything about it, or at least the area."

"Who's Rita?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

Merlin was toying with his dagger, only half paying attention to the conversation. "She's the one that's making sure your belt doesn't fall down while you're here."

The king gave a slight scowl at his cousin. His eyes met Merlin's for a moment before he chuckled, "Shut up, Merlin. I'm not fat."

"I never said you were. Why do you always get so defensive when I mention your belt?" The dark haired man asked with mocking innocence. He knew one day he would pay for the constant jabs at the king's midsection. Arthur may have put on a bit of weight, especially in recent months since he wasn't allowed to train quite as vigorously as before, but he was in no way fat, although it was an easy way to get the king riled up. After all these years, that point of arrogant vanity always remained a constant.

Pointedly ignoring Merlin, Arthur turned back to Percival. "Do you think she would know something helpful?"

The large knight shrugged. "She was telling the children stories about Ireland and giants last night. If anything, the local folklore she knows might have something more to follow on than what we have now, Sire."

Merlin froze for a second. "Aithusa has been trying to tell me about the stories since last night."

"So, why didn't you find out more?" Gwaine asked deadpan.

"Uh, maybe because I was a bit busy getting married." He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, the reality of his new status hitting him once again. Merlin wondered if he would ever get use to saying that. After so long as a bachelor and a servant, this new life kept creeping in and shocking him.

"I still can't believe you went off and did that without me," the rogue pouted.

Arthur looked at Percival. "We should probably bring her in here so we can speak with her about this."

"I promise, next time I'll make sure you're there," Merlin stated to Gwaine, not paying attention to the other conversation.

Arthur cocked his head to the side, unsure if he had heard the man correctly and his eyes shifted away from Percival.

Gwaine's face was the picture of shock. "Next time?"

The warlock groaned as he finally comprehended his own words. "Please don't ever tell her I said that."

The gathered men began to snicker and taunt him. He had the sneaking suspicion that one phrase was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.


	69. Chapter 69

Merlin made his way back up the stairs. Arthur had decided to call for a short break before having some lunch brought in so they could sit down with Rita, and ask her about the stories. She was almost twelve years old when her parents came over from Ireland for reasons she didn't divulge. As Merlin approached the door to Morgana's room, he could hear the women giggling inside. He knocked as a warning and then braced himself as he opened the door.

The sounds ceased as he popped his head through cautiously and looked around. "Is it safe to enter?" He asked nervously. He became even more anxious when he spied the looks on their faces, very conspiratorial.

"Yes it is," Morgana said, putting on a bright smile for her husband. "Did Arthur finally decide to give you a reprieve or did you sneak out?"

Merlin nodded, a slight flush creeping into his cheeks. After his comment, the other men were laughing too hard at the warlock's embarrassment to continue the meeting with as much seriousness as it required.

Gwen and Clarissant glanced at each other. "I suppose we should go see our husband's as well," the queen said, standing and smoothing down her dress.

The other woman followed suit and when they were gone Merlin made his way over to his bride. "Are you alright?" He asked softly, enveloping her in a hug. "I felt you earlier, but couldn't get away from the meeting without causing a disturbance."

She nodded against his shoulder and began to explain what she saw. They moved to sit on the bed where he simply held her while she talked.

A bright smile lit his face as she described what they had concluded about Gwen and the spell that prevented life from forming inside her. Although, it fell a bit as he continued to listen, not so much at her words, but the undertone of her voice. She hesitantly told him about Morgause and she felt his arm stiffen around her.

"Once Arthur is taken care of, I need to find her and finish this. She has caused so much pain, to you most of all." He kissed the top of her head.

Morgana sighed, "I don't want vengeance, there has been so much of that. I feel so sorry for her now…"

"If she's planning something though, I'd rather find her before she regains her strength enough to strike," his voice had gone cold and it sent a shiver through her.

* * *

 

Rita was a simple woman with a quiet life. A caring husband who worked hard as a thatcher for many of the villages along the peninsula, three wonderful and active children, and enough food on the table to feed them all. The two boys had been working alongside their father for years, learning his craft and the past season had seen a definite increase in demand for the roofer's skills with the influx of people after the battle and the rising of a new port town at the river's mouth. Unfortunately this meant moving around to the different places to work. When Lady Morgana had approached them in the late fall about helping to restore the ruins of the keep on the hill just upriver from Bedkelerd, she promised them a steady home for the winter and enough work for at least a couple of years.

It was like a dream come true, or so she thought until the king's party arrived. They knew Lord Emrys, who at the time they had yet to meet, was returning and Rita was a bit nervous. When she was barely more than a girl her own family had fled their home in Ireland because of a disagreement between the lord and lady of a house her father served when he returned from years away at battle. She never knew the exact reasons, but she was reasonably sure it had to do with her father sneaking into the lady's chamber, a bit drunk, on a few nights. Although her husband would never consider such a thing, it still gave her a bit of anxiety that this ideal life might need to be left behind.

Morgana had been spending the day out in the meadow with Aithusa. When she first arrived Rita was quite uncertain about the odd pale girl who showed up unexpectedly when Morgana and her mother returned from an audience with King Maelgwn and never wore shoes. It wasn't that the Lady Morgana couldn't afford it, but the child simply refused to put anything on her feet, even in the dead of winter with the ground frozen solid and covered with a dusting of snow. The shoe issue was only one of oddities.

The lady would sometimes take the child out into the hills and return without her, only to have Aithusa reappear days later happily spouting about something she had learned. Rita knew a little about various magical beings, so in the end concluded that the girl was not human, though her true identity remained a mystery, although she must have been returning to her people or some such thing each time she disappeared. Perhaps she was a fairy, Rita concluded, who decided that the Lady Morgana needed a daughter and chose to take human form because of it. Stories of the like were known from her homeland. The woman certainly couldn't argue that the bubbling lithe child had become a bright spot throughout the winter months.

As the spring came, when Morgana and the girl would head out Rita and her children would catch sight of a flying white creature soaring through the sky, though they gave the lady her privacy and never questioned it, Rita was certain it was the girl.

Her youngest boy had come running into the small garden plot where she and her daughter worked alongside Vivienne, preparing the ground for planting saying that Lady Morgana was returning from the meadow, but there was another woman with her and a man in armor following them on a horse instead of the child. Rita immediately tensed and followed the boy towards the gate.

She was introduced to the new arrivals as the Queen of Camelot and a knight named Gwaine, to which Rita's daughter immediately began swooning over, much to her mother's chagrin. When Morgana and the queen informed her that there would be a group of more than fifty people arriving that evening it sent the woman into a panic.

She had to slap the back of her daughter's head to get the girl's attention and began barking orders to all three of the children and her husband in her fluster to prepare for so many. Rita was called to the parapet where her youngest boy was keeping watch when he spied the caravan rounding the hill down by the lake. It took her breath away.

When Maelgwn had come, it was with a score of battle hardened warriors that were typical of the King of Anglesey's troops, unclean and unkempt. The sight before her was a strong contrast. Guards carried banners of red emblazoned with a golden dragon. A decorated carriage followed them, surrounded by knights in gleaming armor with red capes, much like the uniform Sir Gwaine wore. Among them was a dark-haired man who wore no armor, and on his horse in front of him rode Aithusa, smiling proudly and Rita assumed he must be her father, Lord Emrys.

As the group began filtering into the courtyard, Rita rolled her eyes when her ten year old daughter switched her attentions from Sir Gwaine to a young blond just a few years older than her.

Initially she felt her stomach sink at trying to figure out how to manage such a large gathering, but no sooner had the last of the wagons rolled in then a man walked up to her in a very stiff and proper manner.

He introduced himself as George, the manservant of Lord Emrys and began asking her pointed questions of where she would like everything placed, where to house the knights, and other things that Rita was completely too overwhelmed to answer. Seeing her trepidation, the man with mousy face smiled and then asked simply, "Would you like me to just handle everything and report to you when it is completed?"

Rita nodded dumbly and let out a breath.

"I will make certain all of our food stores are sent to the kitchen, along with someone to assist you in organizing those items and preparing meals for tonight, will that be sufficient?"

Nodding again, she found herself still speechless as she watched in awe while George calmly took over settling everything and everyone in. In less than an hour the man orchestrated everything from finding the best rooms for the nobles and having their personal effects delivered to each respectively all the way down to where even the lowest servant would be.

He demonstrated a skill the likes of which she had never seen and every other servant fell in behind his lead. It was as if he was born to it, which she found out in conversation later that evening with him, he pretty much had been as the son of a personal manservant to the current king's father. Although she was a proud woman and knew how to handle her family and the two ladies of the keep, Rita was also smart and recognized when she was out of her element.

Throughout the following day, everyone was kept busy and George had delegated more of the staff to her in the kitchen to prepare for the feast. Once everything was in order, Rita found herself stepping out and offering to take care of the children, just for a breather from all the hectic chaos that was moving around her.

She enjoyed telling them stories while they ate, and the servants that weren't serving in the hall joyfully listened along with the kids. It was after one particular story that Aithusa suddenly jumped up excitedly and took off out the door squealing that her father was going to love this story. Rita shook her head and thought nothing of it.

The next day, while preparing lunch, George came to her and told her the king had some questions for her. She felt she had proved herself, so the summons caught her completely off guard. She sat nervously fiddling with her wiry red hair waiting for the king and all his men to assemble. Vivienne and the Queen joined them and soon they only seemed to be waiting for Lord Emrys.

Rita watched and listened as the others made small talk. The king was getting antsy and George, who always seemed to be hovering conveniently nearby, offered to go search for the lord of the keep. Arthur waved off the man and looked to Vivienne. "If I'm thinking right, Morgana's room is directly above us, correct?"

Vivienne nodded, the confusion of his question showing on her face. "Yes, Sire. It is."

They all watched as Arthur drew himself up tall and took a deep breath that filled every cell in his lungs. In a voice that mimicked the power of the warlock when he called the dragon, the king belted out, " ** _MER-LIN!"_**

The king then sat back down with a smug smile to wait.


	70. Chapter 70

His eyes flew open and it surprised him. He couldn't remember closing them. Morgana stirred next to him and he smiled. Carefully extracting himself, he settled her on the bed, though she murmured slightly at the loss of body heat, she soon relaxed back into sleep.

Merlin quickly made his way back down to the hall.

"Hope I didn't interrupt anything," Arthur offered in a sarcastic apology. He received a light smack against his side from his wife for the comment.

Merlin looked about to say something when he noticed Gwen and smiled his thanks to her.

"Where's Morgana?" She asked politely.

"Sleeping," he responded, sitting down in his chair on the other side of Arthur from her.

Arthur snorted in disbelief. Before Merlin could retaliate he quickly began the meeting again. He turned to the red haired woman. "Thank you for joining us, Rita." He smiled pleasantly at her. She was sitting in the middle of the gathered tables and appearing more nervous as each second went by.

"Oh good grief, Arthur, did you have to set her there? This isn't the Spanish Inquisition,*" Merlin interrupted. He didn't like seeing anyone called out and put in a position where all eyes were on them. Yes, it was how things would have been done in Camelot, but this was not the great city. This was Merlin's small keep and alienating the help by forcing them to recount any sort of tale in this setting wasn't how he, a former commoner, would have it.

The warlock got up and offered the woman his own seat. Arthur looked to berate him for the break in protocol. Merlin met the king's stare before Arthur could open his mouth. "We just want to ask you about the stories. This isn't anything formal."

The king nodded his assent, a hint of exhaustion crossing his features, which Merlin noted silently. As Rita sighed in relief and took the offered chair.

The journey, although relatively easy and mostly bandit free due to their large number of guards and knights, was still a long one. The warlock could almost sense the magic that held the bond between the king and Leon weakening as it stretched across the leagues. He hadn't taken the time to examine Arthur's wounds lately, but he was fairly certain he wouldn't like what he saw if he did.

Between Arthur, the local king, and now Morgana's vision of Morgause, Merlin could feel time pressing in on him. The more they found out about the giants and the location of the cauldron the less time they would need to spend looking for it. He briefly considered trying to talk Arthur out of the journey to Ireland, but he knew the request would fall on deaf ears.

"Rita, we have heard that you are from Ireland. And although we understand we are asking about folklore, between Sir Percival and even Aithusa, it seems that we might be able to gain some understanding about the land and what we are searching for through them," Arthur said, trying not to sound too authoritative.

Merlin stood nearby. "Last night Aithusa really wanted to tell me something about one of your stories. I trust her instincts. If you can tell us what it was about we'd be grateful."

Rita let out a laugh, "Oh my… grown men, and ladies, wantin' ta hear my bedtime stories." She glanced around thinking this was a joke, but realized by the looks on their faces that it wasn't. Clearing her throat she tried to school her face to appear serious. "Well, yer lil'un ran out during a story about a family of giants. Centuries ago there was a king who enslaved the giants, his name was Matholwch and it was said he married a beautiful princess from over here. Her brothers were angry that the princess ran away with him and brought with her a magical cauldron ringed with pearls. But the king couldn't get the cauldron to work its magic for him, so he became bitter and gave it to his giants to use as a cooking pot, which they only cooked meals for the bravest of men in because of its finery."

The core group of men looked at each other and glanced at Bran sitting on the mantle. The head was deathly still as he listened. Merlin doubted with all the commotion and influx of people if the woman even knew that the head was not a decoration. He noticed Clarissant's eyes widen and after a whispered word to Percival, she quietly left the hall.

"The brothers arrived with an army and that's when King Matholwch realized he had been tricked. The brothers wanted his lands and riches and when he graciously invited them to a feast, the princess, who was also a sorceress, summoned the magic of the cauldron and dead men came spilling out of it. A battle was fought and Matholwch was killed ruthlessly, the giants seeing their chance at freedom and took the cauldron and fled with it, worried that the evil brothers would destroy them and their son. They deemed that the cauldron should never again be in the hands of men and they sent their only son, a giant named Dyrnwch to hide the cauldron. High in the mountains there is said to be a cave where there is a door to Annwvn... "

Merlin visibly paled. He held up his hand as a signal for Rita to stop. She did and looked at him curiously. After a few moments he remembered to breathe and color began to return to his cheeks as a soft snicker escaped him. All eyes began turning towards the warlock as the snicker turned into a chuckle and then into laughter.

Arthur sucked on his teeth for a moment. "Merlin, care to tell us what's so funny?"

"Arthur what am I?" Merlin asked in response.

The king's eyebrows rose as he thought about how to answer that question. What was Merlin? A noble man, a former servant, a dragon lord, a sorcerer, a warlock, his second cousin, his new brother-in-law, Merlin was so many things. Everyone was waiting for Arthur to answer. He finally went with his most common choice of words in describing him, and it seemed to fit the dark-haired man who was being amused by his own thought process at the moment. "An idiot? Or more specifically, a royal idiot."

Merlin nodded in agreement, a fact that made Arthur physically step back and take another look at him. "Yes, I think I am. At least in this instance."

"Explain?"

The warlock looked at Vivienne. "From your knowledge of magic and the Old Religion, would it make sense that if a poison was brewed from a magical cauldron that the cure would have to possibly come from the same cauldron?"

The older woman thought it over for a moment. "Yes, I believe it would."

Arthur was getting a bit impatient. "What does this have to do with anything relevant?"

"Because Mordred didn't go to Ireland," he stated with absolute surety. *

* * *

 

Gwaine watched his sister enter the room with Percival; there was a lightness to her step that he had never seen before. He kept an eye on her from across the table. They all sat and listened while Rita told her story. Out of his peripheral vision he noticed when his sister's mood began to shift. She whispered something to her husband, who obviously noticed the change as well, before quietly leaving the hall. Gwaine stealthily followed. He ran to catch up to her. "Hey!"

Clarissant paused. "Shouldn't you be back in there?"

"Probably, but I was curious about why you left?"

"I need to go get something."

"Great I'll come with you. Fairy tales really aren't my thing."

"That's not necessary," she replied and set off again at a quickened pace.

"So, when I have ever done something that needed doing?"

"Never."

"Exactly…well, there was that one time I saved you by literally putting my neck on the line."

"Fine," She rolled her eyes, "I'll give you that."

"Ok.  What gives?"

"Nothing. I just want to go get my book."

"Oooh, it's your book now? I thought it was Bran's."

"He told me I could keep it," she quipped, getting irritated.

Gwaine began to snap off another remark but stopped himself, realizing how childish they were both sounding. He placed a hand on her shoulder to stop them both on the stairs. "Seriously, you came in all butterflies and rainbows and then something she said changed it."

"It's nothing," Clarissant lied.

"Bullocks." Gwaine looked into eyes that nearly matched his own, "You were happier than I have ever seen you before. At least tell me why?"

She drew a breath and pursed her lips, "Promise me you won't tell anyone."

"Alright," he offered with a nod.

"I'm serious Gwaine! Not even Percival!"

That caught his attention real quick. He held the eye contact with her for a moment as he gauged how serious she really was with her request, "Ok.  I won't tell a soul. I promise."

Clarissant's eyes scanned the staircase. Although she didn't see anyone, she wasn't going to take the chance at being overheard. She grabbed her brother's hand and led him to the small room she was currently sharing with Percival and Haddy. Thankful that the boy was still out with Aithusa. Clarissant pulled Gwaine into the room with her.

He was beginning to worry.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "I think I… might be pregnant." She couldn't stop the hint of a smile from touching her face.

Gwaine's eyes shot open, "That's… wow…" He stopped and a look of confusion covered his face. "But, why haven't you told your husband?"

She huffed, "Because, I didn't have time between when I realized it and we went into that meeting."

"Clare?" He questioned, his voice holding a serious tone, "What changed?" Something had clearly taken place in her mind between then and now.

She walked over to her chest and took out the book. "You're all going to be leaving soon."

"But, we'll be back before the kid comes," he said, not grasping the level of her anxiety.

"Gwaine, I don't want him to be distracted. I… I need to talk to Merlin and Bran."

His eyes narrowed as he tried to comprehend her sudden shift in topic. "Huh?"

Sighing heavily, she sank onto the mats that were serving as the bed in the small room. She opened up the book and found one of the passages and held it out to him.

Gwaine began reading it and his mood soon matched his sister's. A book written by a crazed bard over two-hundred years before his birth seemed to tell exactly where they were going. "So, to Hell we go then."

"It's the last line that frightens me. I don't want him at all distracted. I am certain if he knows now, he won't have his mind fully on the task and protecting himself."

He knew exactly what she was trying to say. Before their father had left for what would become his final battle, their mother had fallen ill. Although she recovered, in the weeks following the death of their father they overheard others talking about how distracted he was with worry for his wife that he failed to see what he needed to. It cost Owain his life and also many others on that battlefield. Knowing the large knight the way he did, he could see her concern. Clarissant had become the man's entire world and if he thought she might be at all unwell, it would certainly split his focus, as he had no other family but her. Gwaine nodded slowly and put an arm around his sister. "I won't tell him, yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The passage below is not mine, but it is what Clare had Gwaine read. It is from one of the stories in the books of Taliesin. Annwn is said to be the world of the afterlife, Uffern is basically a gateway to hell, and Caer Vedwyd is one of the fortresses within Annwn.
> 
> In the first word from the cauldron when spoken,
> 
> From the breath of nine maidens it was gently warmed.
> 
> Is it not the cauldron of the chief of Annwn? What is its intention?
> 
> A ridge about its edge and pearls.
> 
> It will not boil the food of a coward, that has not been sworn,
> 
> A sword bright gleaming to him was raised,
> 
> And in the hand of Lleminawg it was left.
> 
> And before the door of the gate of Uffern the lamp was burning.
> 
> And when we went with Arthur; a splendid labour,
> 
> Except seven, none returned from Caer Vedwyd.
> 
> Preiddeu Annwn
> 
> Llyfyr Taliesin XXX


	71. Chapter 71

They sat for a few moments in silence. Gwaine was re-reading the passages his sister pointed out. "You know there's a lot more stuff in here than just the coincidental description of the Cauldron," he commented.

"Yes, like Arthur's name reappearing, and almost every one of the pages states that 'except seven, none returned'."

"We should really have Merlin take a look, he's got the brains for these sorts of things." Gwaine pushed himself up off the mat on the floor and held out a hand to assist his twin. "I think you should tell Percival."

She sighed as she stood. "Gwaine, not yet."

"Look, you're not sick like our mother was, plus we were… five or something? Having a baby would give him more reason to want to return! He knows how to take care of himself."

"Gwaine, I was married for thirteen years…" She didn't even want to go to this place in her own mind, but she knew how pig headed her brother could be when he made a decision.

"To an idiot who wouldn't have given a rat's ass if you were sick or pregnant," he paused as what she said began to click together in his mind. Clarissant had been married for a long time and as far as he knew she didn't have a child to show for it. His voice was somber when he asked reluctantly, "Have you ever had a kid?"

Clare shook her head.

"Were you ever expecting one?" Gwaine wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Taking a breath to steady herself. "A few times, but with Guirom, I was actually glad than none were ever born."

He felt his anger at himself for not fighting harder against her to keep away from that life when they were young. "And Percival knows this," He stated more than questioned. A slight nod as she studied the floor was his answer. If the large knight knew his wife had miscarried more than once already during her previous marriage, Gwaine could see why she wanted to keep this from him. He nodded, coming to a decision as he reined in his temper. "You know you're going to be fine this time. Especially here with the other women to take care of you."

"I hope so, but if I lose this one as well... I don't want him to have to worry about that while you all are chasing after this thing."

He flinched at her words. It was heartbreaking to hear her speak as if losing a baby was almost common for her. "Ok, then," he accepted her reasoning biting back his emotions. "So, now I'm gonna be the one worried and distracted."

She gasped with that realization.

Gwaine gave her a roguish smile and threw his arm over her shoulders as they headed out of the room. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. If only to come back and see you proven wrong in your worry.  Plus, I can't wait to have a new kid to corrupt."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his chest, knowing full well he would do just that.

* * *

 

Only a few people remained in the great hall when Gwaine and Clarissant returned to the room. "What did we miss?" Gwaine asked in his typical cheery voice.

Arthur looked up. "Oh, nothing except finding out this idiot," he stated indicating Merlin, "knew where the giant was all along. It appears we won't have to find ships. Which is a good thing, because the reports that have started to come in are rather disheartening in that aspect."

The rogue smirked, "Anything to stay off of a boat, eh?"

"You bet," Merlin replied not even glancing up. It was the part of the journey he had personally been dreading after his one experience sailing down to Caerleon.

"Well, Clare here has something she needs to talk to you about."

Merlin's eyes rose and he noticed Gwaine's twin standing slightly behind him with the book Taliesin had wrote. Her gaze drifted over to where Bran's head sat and back to the warlock in a silent communication. Understanding her unspoken request, he excused himself from Arthur's side and went to get Bran. The found another table a bit away from the others and sat down. Bran smiled fondly at Clarissant, "My Lady."

"How are you faring Bran? I'm sorry I haven't had much of a chance to read with you." She returned his smile with one of her own. Placing the book on the table and opened it up to the story that had caught her attention. She and Bran exchanged small talk and she briefly explained which tale Merlin read.

The warlock's face betrayed nothing as his eyes skimmed through the lines. Closing the book he pushed it aside and stared off in thought. He finally shook his head, as if waking from a dream. His eyes went to the table on the small dais at the head of the hall. Merlin evaluated the men standing around searching through maps of the area. "Do you know of this story, Bran? More so, was it one of the adventures you had?" He asked hopefully.

"No, I can't say it is. And there was never anyone named Arthur with us. There were only seven men when we escaped from Matholwch, eight if you include my sister. Taliesin, after that journey was never the same and it seemed he would speak in a way that gave time no meaning. His prophecies mixed with the past and the present was nearly non-existent and he became obsessed at times with the number seven, saying it was of the divine. I never was able to figure out what happened. In one of his clearer moments, he said it had something to do with the cauldron being a portal or near a portal, but he never explained beyond that."

As they spoke, Clarissant excused herself and move to be closer to her husband, leaving them to their musings.

Merlin glanced around.  "When I met with the giant a few months ago, I could feel something dark and otherworldly in that place. The cave was built back into the mountain behind some ruins. The only other time I have felt … well, what I felt there...was on the Isle of the Blessed, years ago, when the veil was torn." His eyes drifted down to the table as he let the thoughts play through him. "Since it's so close, we were already considering taking fewer men with us than we originally thought. That is what Arthur and the others are discussing."

"I worry that I would be a burden for you to carry, especially if there are less men…"

"Nonsense.  You are an essential part of this," Merlin replied cutting him off.

"How so? I can't hold my axe, I can't even walk. Other than giving Gwaine a punch line for his jokes, I can't really help you here."

"Bran, I will carry you personally. You are coming with us. For one, you are the only one who knows what the cauldron truly looks like. It belongs to your family anyway," Merlin argued.

"And you are a descendant of that family. By all rights it belongs to you as well," The bodiless man corrected.

"Then, we will search together, and to Hell we shall go."  After reading the passage and realizing the significance of the wording as it corresponded to his sense of the area, he meant it quite literally.

"Now, how do you plan to tell the others?" Bran queried and watched as a near comical mixture of confusion and horror passed over Merlin's face.


	72. Chapter 72

Bricius wasn't entirely pleased to be out here in the woods surrounding the Lord of Anjou's estate. The small temple and the energy that pulsed through the ley lines was intoxicating, he would certainly admit that. However, the reason he was brought to this place was not something he would have volunteered for had he known what, or who, lay inside, a knight of Camelot. He brushed back his dark brown hair from his eyes as he mixed a compound near the small fire outside the shrine.

The new king had a truce with the druid clans, with Iseldir as the main spokesman for the people. Although, so much blood had been spilled at the hands of Arthur under his father, it was hard to separate the two men sometimes. He remembered years before his brother and nephew going into the city to make a purchase. He argued against their journey, but the herbs they needed could only be had through a merchant with ties to the continent. Bricius's brother Cerdan, never returned from that excursion. Caught and beheaded for a few extra coins in the merchant's pocket. His life paid for by the city guards out of the king's own coffers. Bricius's nephew, a boy named Mordred disappeared that day only to turn up months later after another of their camps had suffered a raid by the Pendragons. One of the few who escaped managed to bring the boy back home, just in time for a visit from his mother.

The woman was the last High Priestess since Nimueh's demise, as such, the dedication to her duties kept her away for long periods of time. She berated Bricius and the others for not having sent word to her immediately when the boy's father had perished. She clung tightly to the child as the boy told her of the woman who helped to care for him and how it was Arthur that saved him by taking him out of the city and to Iseldor in the forest. He watched as a strange look of foreboding crossed Morgause's features.

_"I think it's time to reward the young prince for his assistance and finally be done with the tyrant who has caused us all so much suffering," She stated with a sad smile. After that, she left, taking Mordred with her._

Bricius heard later how Morgause showed up in Camelot to beat the prince in a duel and then a few weeks afterwards, word came that she was searching for a sorcerer to aid her in stealing from the vaults in Camelot. He admired her tenacity, but was a bit put off when he realized she was using her own son to assist her. Not long afterwards the blond priestess came to him and asked him to look after Mordred. It seemed all of her plans to that point had fallen through and it was time for her to step up her game.

Rumor came to his small clan that smoke was spotted over the ruins of Idirsholas. He felt a pang of fear realizing what the Priestess had done. Summoning the dark magic needed to bring the Knights of Medir to life marked her crossing into a realm from which few could return. It was one thing to bring a spirit back to commune with, quite another to play with the curses of those long dead.

The seer of his clan spoke of the dark times ahead for them all. Many ancient beings of the Old Religion were awakening, their energy that was expended while fighting the Great Purge was now restored and though there were certainly less of the creatures of shadow than before, it did not bode well for the future. Whispers had begun of Emrys's coming. Bricius couldn't help but notice each time the name was mentioned around his nephew, the boy would tense up, he never explained why, and Bricius didn't push.

Then one day, not long after the fires were seen, Morgause came back to the druids, the ward of Uther Pendragon in tow. The dark-haired noble woman followed the priestess around like a lost spirit, her eyes vacant as death. The children of the clan avoided her, sensing the lack of soul. The chieftain finally asked Morgause to leave and take the shade with her. She also took her son, against Bricius's wishes. She threatened the full power of her position as a High Priestess if any in the clan attempted to stop her.

He never saw the boy after that. The clans were caught up in fear when news came from Iseldir's clan that Emrys had taken the cup of life and subsequently lost it to Morgause and her consort Cenred. After that came the dark nights, where an army of immortals marched on Camelot, followed by the spirits of the Dorocha being loosed upon the world as the Veil was torn. Bricius searched for his nephew when he heard of Morgause's fall and how the power summoned that night brought life to the shade that was her sister, but hewas never able to find the boy.

Morgana emerged as the new High Priestess, and she tried visiting the druid clans to gain their support. When they felt the dark presence nearing them, most would disappear into the trees wishing for her to simply leave them in peace. Bricius nearly found himself joining his brother in the afterlife when he confronted the woman about Mordred. He was shocked to see the way an internal battle of madness took place in Morgana's eyes. The druid felt the pressure build up as Morgana began to cast a spell at him, then it suddenly ceased, as if part of her recognized the man. He could have sworn in a flash he had seen Morgause's eyes looking out at him. But then the woman simply turned and walked away.

That was over five years ago. He tried to push the memory aside and move on as other rumors floated into the camps. But it wasn't until this last year that he finally caught wind of his long lost nephew being named as a Knight of Camelot. Bricius felt conflicted with the news. His relief at the fact Cerdan's son being alive was tempered with the knowledge he now was a follower of King Arthur. The druid heard no more until he was summoned by his clan leader to assist in caring for a Knight.

He knew Mordred was among the knight's that had not returned from a recent battle against Morgana and the Saxons, so he allowed himself to imagine that it could be the dark haired boy he had searched for. When he realized it was not Mordred, his heart fell and his anger grew when he overheard the king and other's talking, unaware of him eavesdropping, about Mordred's betrayal. He didn't stick around to hear if the king and his men spoke in more detail about the events as he silently made his way deeper into the forest to mourn the loss of his brother's son.

Bricius was brought out of his revere when a hissing sound of fluid hitting the fire below his small pot caught his attention. He looked down with a sigh and realized he would have to toss the mixture which was meant to help keep the sleeping knight's muscles from deteriorating was ruined. The magic surrounding the man was strong, but it was the Catha Priests who suggested the compound as a way of supplementing the magic so it would not need to work as hard to keep Sir Leon's body preserved in the unnatural state.

Groaning at his lack of focus, he took the pot away from the fire and dumped the mixture off away from the camp. He used some sand to scrub out the bottom, which had a layer burnt onto it before rinsing it with water to start again. Setting out the ingredients he noticed he was rather low on a few. With none of what he required available for free in the forest, he resigned himself for a small trip into the town. Luckily it was market day and there was a cart that traveled from Camelot on these days that had recently started supplying the right herbs.

Just after making his purchase his senses caught a flicker of magic directed at him. He thanked the merchant and turned towards the feeling. His heart stopped cold when he saw the familiar eyes looking out of the face of a homely little brunette.

"Hello Bricius," She crooned.

He swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing sharply from the action. "Hello, Morgause."

* * *

  
It was late in the afternoon when Morgana awoke alone in her bed. Dressing and combing out her hair she made her way downstairs to the main hall. Knights were gathered around various tables spread with maps of the area, each studying them in what looked to be numerous battle plans. She made eye contact with Merlin the moment she passed through the doors. Instead of walking straight towards him, she put on a teasing smile and purposely wound her way through the room taking the longest possible route to reach him. His blue orbs followed her never blinking. His head only turned as she neared him so he could continue watching her, other than that he didn't move.

"Sometimes, you can be rather creepy," she commented jokingly about the way he observed her as she linked her hand around his elbow.

"I concur," Arthur stated with a look on his face like he had just been subjected to the smell of Gwaine's socks.  
Merlin had to laugh at them both as they stood on either side of him.

"Any chance I could steal  _my_  husband away from all this?" She asked possessively, enjoying the way the words flowed off her tongue.

"I don't know, Morgana. Perhaps  _your_ husband doesn't want to be stolen. Also he is  _my_  right hand and I require his input about our current situation. It may be that he would rather stay here."

The warlock's eyes shifted from Morgana to Arthur and back again, suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic. He slowly tried to take a step back only to feel Morgana's hand tighten.

"Well, I think you've had him nearly all day already. Plus, I haven't had a time to properly catch up as he was in Camelot with you through the winter."

Arthur's hand came down on Merlin's shoulder further preventing him from making an escape. "And once this situation is resolved you will have the rest of your lives to spend together," He stated with a cold triumphant smirk.  
Her green eyes narrowed at the king in a challenge of dominance. Arthur leaned in slightly displaying his power of authority. Merlin's eyebrows disappeared into his hair line as he looked around for a way to escape.

His savior came from an unexpected cry.

"FATHER!" A little voice yelled as she burst into the room. Tears streaming down her face her hands cupped gently around something hidden in her hands. Haddy and Loholt were close on her heels. She rushed towards Merlin who immediately broke free of the two fighting over him and met her halfway. Opening her hands she showed Merlin what they held.

A small little faerie lay in them, obviously in pain as one of her wings was nearly broken. Her skin was a pale pink, unlike the sidhe surrounding Avalon, but even so, she looked paler than she should. For a moment, Merlin wondered if Aithusa had been too rough playing with the small fae folk.

"We were playing and she ran into a tree, I didn't mean to make her get hurt," the girl managed between sobs.

"It's alright sweetheart," Morgana comforted, coming up to Aithusa and placing an arm around her shoulders.

"We'll do what we can to help her," Merlin assured and took the small being into his own hands gently. He moved over to the table. "Loholt, can you get me that silk pillow?" Merlin asked, indicating a cushion placed on the queen's seat.  
The boy did as he was asked and placed it on the table in front of Merlin. The warlock set the faerie on it lightly, trying not to jar her. His eyes squinted as he looked her over to see if it was just her wing. He was unaware of Arthur quietly dispersing the knights that began to crowd in around the table, attempting to see what the children had brought. With a few whispered words most of them left the room, albeit rather reluctantly.

Conjuring a magical light to aide him he sadly noticed that her shoulder was also stuck at an odd angle. He worried about causing her more pain as she was so tiny. He knew from his years with Gaius and also some basic lessons from Alice, that the shoulder would need set properly before any magical healing could be applied to help the softer tissue mend. Bones being magically shifted into place could be more painful and less effective than having it done mundanely.

He glanced at his large calloused hands with a frown. He felt Morgana come up behind him and place a hand on his arm. "Can I help with anything?"

"I need to try and do something for the pain before we can set her shoulder. I fear my hands would be too large to do it right." He turned to his daughter. "Were there any others of her clan around that could have gone for a healer?"  
She shook her head and Haddy answered, "They all disappeared and didn't want us to play with them, except her and another, but when she ran into a tree because she wasn't paying attention, the other one ran away. My mum always told me I'd break my face on a tree if I didn't watch where I was going."

The warlock sighed and stepped back a bit. "Morgana your fingers are much more delicate than mine." He indicated the small faerie girl.

"Tell me what to do," She said as she moved forward and took his place. The children held their breaths while he explained how to set the shoulder.

Merlin cast a spell to make certain the small creature of magic was in a deep sleep while Morgana carefully followed his instruction. They managed to set the shoulder back into its socket and everyone sighed in relief when it was done. Now that was accomplished, Merlin was sorting through his brain to find a mending spell that could heal the wing. Only in desperate moments had he been able to call up on the gentle gifts of the healing magic and even then Merlin wasn't satisfied with the results. He lifted his eyes to Morgana and stepped in behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I think you should use your magic to heal her."

Morgana stiffened. "My magic?" She had regained many of the memories from her time in the darkness of her mind and she knew how to access the magic within her, but other than using it to heal Merlin, she had yet to do anything more than the occasional parlor trick since being reborn months before. A part of her still feared what she might become if she did use it.

As if reading her mind, Merlin stepped in closer and laid a soft kiss on his wife's cheek. "You've used it to heal me, just let it come to you naturally, you have the strength. Remember in Camelot, you always put the needs of others before yourself, even from the shadows of your mind you were still trying to do what you could for more than just yourself," he whispered in her ear encouragingly.

Arthur stood back from everyone else a little ways, observing the situation. The battle of egos over Merlin a few moments prior reminded him of the girl he had grown up with. It also forced him to recall all the years following it when Morgana tried to take matters into her own hands. Logically, he understood Merlin's explanation and he witnessed some of the differences apparent in the woman between who she had once been, what she became, and the raven-haired lady that stood before them now. It was an easier concept to deal with when he was separated from her by leagues. He had yet to chance speaking with her alone.

Gwen seemed to accept the transformation gracefully, as he knew she would, which was a great part of the reason he had fallen in love with the maid. The king didn't realize how much apprehension he still held about Morgana's state until he heard Merlin ask her to use magic. In the grove the night before he had unconsciously consoled himself that it was more Merlin than her, so it was easier to accept. His blue eyes were steeled as he waited with baited breath to see what would happen in front of him now.

Morgana's eyes closed and she searched within herself for the magic Merlin guided her to previously. A few soft spoken words and her eyes opened with a soft glow coloring the irises. Warmth emanated from her hands into the small faerie before her. A golden glow wove through the wing and around the body of the tiny girl, mending her broken body.

Merlin stepped back, pride beaming from his smile as the healing took place. He looked up, catching Arthur's eyes. The corner of the king's lips twitched up and he nodded at Merlin. Without a word, he turned and left the hall, his fears about Morgana put to rest for the time being.

"Oy," Merlin started loudly, causing everyone to jump. "You kids!" His eyes glanced over the three and ended on Aithusa. "You need to be more careful."

"But…"

"She's the one…"

"I tried to tell…"

He held up his hand for silence and they did, shame and guilt etched on their faces. He took a breath and spoke a bit quieter, "Just, be more mindful next time is all I'm saying, got it?"

They nodded together. "Haddy, you should go find your guardians and get washed up. Loholt, I'm sure your uncles are wondering where you are." The boys bobbed their heads in acceptance and moved towards the door. By the time they left only Merlin, Morgana, Aithusa and the faerie were left in the room.

The girl stood back, her shoulders hunched over and her head hung low, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.

"As for you, we are going to help you take her back to her family, and you are going to apologize to them. I'm sure they're worried sick," he said addressing the dragon child.


	73. Chapter 73

Once the faerie was healed they took her out to the grove and with a whispered word of thanks and the promise to look where she was going, the winged girl sped off into the growing shadows of the evening. Aithusa, remembering what Merlin told her, called out a loud apology as the pink speck joined with others like her and then disappeared. Together they turned and started back towards their home.

"I'm hungry," The girl announced and ran off ahead of them to see if Miss Rita had something made for supper.

Merlin shook his head as they reached the edge of the forest. He spared a glance at Morgana as she walked next to him. The soft peacefulness of her features was a beautiful sight. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to anyone that cared to hear for such a beautiful woman. In one day she had so solidly woven herself into his life more than he ever dreamed possible. The whole idea of being married to her was still so new that it seemed surreal. A soft chuckle escaped him.

"What?" Morgana looked at him curiously.

He shook his head unable to find the words to describe his feelings.

"Don't give me that. I can tell something is going on in that mind of yours."

"I…uh… was it real last night? That we…? Or am I going to wake up and find that so much this past year has been only a dream?" He asked wistfully. "Arthur finally realizing the truth, me discovering my own familial past, the first chance to show my true skills, and finding you again, plus our little Aithusa. I don't think I could handle it, if it wasn't real."

"Me either," She said softly. "You've grown up so much since… well, since I was last in Camelot. I still feel as if I don't really know who you are yet."

"Many days I don't feel like I know myself," He admitted to her. "Especially, when I'm away from you. I wish you could have been with me in Camelot for my recognition ceremony and all that. I could have used your strength and guidance. I felt so overwhelmed, and I don't think I've quite gotten over it yet."

Morgana smiled and allowed him help her over the stones that formed a barrier against the hill on the main road. "I admit I was jealous of not being able to be there as well."

"Maybe we can talk to Arthur when this is done. I'll need to head back to Camelot with him.  Perhaps, we could find a way for you to come with me this time, as you are my wife." His eyes twinkled at the thought of showing off the beautiful woman on his arm.

Her face fell. "No… I'm not ready for that. From what Gwen described, I don't think Camelot is ready for me either."

Merlin released a sad sigh, "Perhaps, your right. At least, I know the next time I go I won't have to feel like a piece of meat in Arthur's kennels if there's any type of festivities."

"I'm sure the toes of all the ladies present will be thankful for that," She replied cheekily as they stood near a fork in the road that led either up to the keep or down to the other side of the hill. "Do we have to go back in there yet?"

"Nope, come on!" He took her hand and they started off on the lower path. "Although, you might find it more pleasant to go home." Aithusa had gone so far ahead of them, Merlin was sure she was already back in Rita's kitchen tucking herself into a meal.

"You want to speak with the dragon," She said recalling their conversation from that morning.

Her husband nodded quietly and rubbed at his neck with his free hand. A random thought suddenly dawned on him, that he hadn't even put on a neckerchief since Morgana had called it a security blanket. He began chuckling.

He laughed even more when the small v crease in between Morgana's eyebrows formed as she tried to figure out where the humor was in going to speak with Kilgharrah. He finally explained to her what had caught his fancy.

She rolled her eyes and sighed melodramatically. "I have to say it wasn't my favorite accessory you had, but I am wondering why you decided to shave again…" She released his arm and kept walking.

Merlin was stopped in his tracks. Completely dumbstruck by her comment. "Are you kidding me, woman?"

She giggled and quickened her pace. He howled with laughter and began to chase after her.


	74. Chapter 74

They raced along the path that wound through the trees.  He almost caught up to her a few times, but the boost in confidence from healing the pixie earlier, accompanied with the mirth at keeping ahead of her husband had Morgana reaching for minor spells in her mind to slow him down. She felt amazingly free to be able to do something with the power inside herself other than when it was needed or through the visions. A thickening of the underbrush, the sudden appearance of an odd root, and a bit of unexpected mud did wonders to keep her out of arms reach. She skidded to a halt however as a tree seemed to magically step in front of her. She spun around to find herself face to face with Merlin.

He wasted no time in pressing her against the trunk. His mouth heavy upon hers as his hands kneaded against her upper arms. A few moments of passion and he pulled back, his eyes alight with the love he felt. Fingers trailed down her arms and entwined with hers. He took a step back, breathing heavy from both the run and the kiss. The tree behind her disappeared, materializing back off to the side of the trail as the magic wore off. Morgana noticed they were already in the meadow where she usually brought Aithusa to meet with the Great Dragon.

"Oh," she groaned, thinking for a moment that perhaps she should have gone back to the keep. Her interactions with Kilgharrah were always a source of anxiety

"Come on, it'll be fine," he promised, leading her out into the clearing. He held her hands as he raised his chin to the growing number of stars.

A voice came from him that she had not expected. The power in it was raw and primal, and it sent shivers coursing through her. The pendant that hung down her chest at the level of her heart warmed with the dragon magic and wove its way into her veins and heated her to the core. She gasped, feeling her knees weakening, and her heart racing. He brought his face back down to look at her and he noticed the flush in her cheeks. Tilting his head sideways a concerned smile on his face he asked, "Are you alright?"

Morgana licked her lips and nodded quickly, "That was…" The flush of her cheeks deepened as she searched for the words to describe it. She struggled to steady her breathing, and whispered embarrassedly, "It was… orgasmic."

He snorted, attempting to contain his reaction, his own face turning red. He sincerely hoped the reaction was exclusive to her. The sight of Morgana appearing like she did in the room the night before, albeit with more clothing on this time, sent his pulse racing. Merlin stepped in closer to her until their bodies were a hair's breadth from touching and without the powerful call behind the words began to speak to her in the draconic language. Their eyes locked and he felt her breath still as he pressed closer into her, until he was whispering his love in the foreign tongue against her face.

She exhaled in a moan of near ecstasy feeling his hot breath flowing over her lips.

"I'm going to have to remember this for the bedroom later," he commented in a soft teasing voice.

"Uh huh," was all she managed as her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down, mashing her mouth over his.

His strong arms pulled her body in tight against his. His eyes closed and his mouth opened to meet hers.

"I do hope, Dragon Lord, that you did not simply summon me to bear witness to you and...  _her_ ," the great dragon hissed out, unable to call Morgana the name he felt she deserved. "Watching the two of you coupling is not my idea of an evening well spent."

Merlin turned his head to eye the creature with disdain. "Jealousy does not become you, Kilgharrah."

The dragon cackled loudly, "And why would I be jealous? Such emotion is beneath me."

Merlin's lip quirked up in disbelief, but he let it slide. Pulling back from Morgana, he shifted towards the dragon. "I did not summon you here to argue semantics with you, old friend."

Kilgharrah's eyes narrowed at the comment, "Friends are we, Dragon Lord? After our conversation yesterday, I was rather uncertain."

Merlin looked as if he had tasted something foul. "I had a thought about apologizing to you for that. However, I am seriously reconsidering now."

"An apology? For forcing me to hold my tongue so I would not speak the truth that you refuse to see. Although, I rather doubt you would have brought...  _her_  ...with you, if that was the case."

"Oh please! I'm standing right here, what is it that has you so set against me? I have done nothing to you, and I know Aithusa has described the circumstances of my past. Even before my sister abused my mind, you purposely set out to make certain Merlin wouldn't help me. You abused him for your own purposes, as much as Morgause did to me," Morgana spat out pushing Merlin aside to face off against the large creature.

Kilgharrah's eyes narrowed disdainfully, "Tread carefully, Morgana, you know not of the destiny you speak."

"Oh, I know plenty of destinies..."

"Enough, both of you. Kilgharrah, we have already discussed this, Morgana, please..."

"Merlin, I do not understand why you continue to cater to this woman's desires. She is..."

"Careful, Dragon, she is my wife," his voice was low and threatening and Merlin's eyes had darkened dangerously.

Kilgharrah unconsciously took a step back. The large ancient beast appeared afraid for the first time since Merlin had met him. Even when the man first came into his power and threatened him, Kilgharrah had shown no true fear.

"If I rescind the order I gave you yesterday, do you think you can maintain a cordial attitude on your own?"

The dragon bowed his head in reverence. "You will find no need to command such a thing of me as the bond between you was granted by a power as ancient as the world itself. I am as bound to it as I am to you."

His sudden change in bearing took Merlin by surprise and gave the warlock pause. He glanced at Morgana, who appeared, if possible, more confused than he was. "What do you mean?" Merlin finally asked.

"Perhaps, I was simply reminded, as the Red Dragon foretold, that there is more at work here than even I can see," The dragon whispered evasively.

"Kilgharrah…?"

"I must take my leave of you Dragon Lord, although this evening has been enlightening, remember your first destiny. The king will rely on you more than ever before in the coming days. Do not be distracted by what you have yet to see." With a great beat of his wings the creature of the Old Religion lifted into the air and flew off into the night.

Merlin bit his tongue and glared across the sky where the dragon had flown.

"What the hell did that mean?" Morgana questioned, her eyes staring off in the same direction.

Merlin just shrugged, feeling rather lost with the sudden transformation in attitude of his kin. "I may be able to speak the language of the dragons, but most of the time, I still have no idea what they are saying."

* * *

 

They snuck back into the fort, utilizing the magic of shadows in Merlin's dagger, after their confusing interaction with Kilgharrah. A long wooden tub, with cloth laid inside and draped slightly over the rim to keep rough edges from irritating the bather, was set up near the fireplace, the water was cool, but that didn't keep the matching smiles from their faces. A minor spell, cast silently from the warlock's eyes had the bath warmed to the perfect temperature.

"I have to say, I'm rather impressed with this George fellow," Morgana commented, while allowing her husband to undo the laces on the back of her dress.

Merlin smirked and slowly began to slide the dress from her shoulders, leaning in to press kisses against the skin of her shoulder as it was revealed. Morgana allowed her arms to drop to her sides and the dress fell in a pool of cloth at her feet. "Arthur can't stand him," he said against her neck.

"His loss."

"Yes, it is." Merlin wrapped his strong hands around her waist and he pulled her back against him, his eyes roaming down the length of her curves.

She turned in his arms and pulled back just enough to push his jacket off, where it joined her dress on the floor. He watched her with a heated gaze, feeling himself rise. Gathering his shirt at the bottom hem, she slid her hands underneath along his abs before pushing it up. Morgana kissed the dark wiry hair across his chest. He raised his arms and helped pull it off over his head. She subtly untied the knot of his trousers, her fingers traced around the waistline over his hips and her hands moved under the fabric to cup his buttocks as the pants fell.

He shifted against her, trying not to lose his balance while stepping on the heels of his boots to pull them off and then stepped out of his pants. This night was not promising to be quite the one of heated passion as the evening before, where the magical high had them on top of each other in a flustered excitement from the moment the door had closed behind them. Nor was it the fun-filled teasing that the morning's activities held before they were interrupted by the children arguing, but it was certainly going to be enjoyable. He smiled and pulled away, leading her to the hot bath that awaited them.

He lifted her up easily and set her down in the water where she carefully sat down. He climbed in behind his new wife and leaned back against the tub wall. She relaxed against him in the warm water. He allowed his head fall back against the raised wall of the tub and his eyes to close, Morgana resting against his chest.

"I have a question for you," She said in a soft voice after a few minutes of relaxation as they allowed the warm water to saturate their bodies.

"Hmm?" He responded lazily, half-dozing in the comfort of an actual tub. This was certainly one of the perks of being a noble. Growing up, and even as a servant in Camelot, his bathing usually consisted of a pot of lukewarm water and a rag. There were bath-houses in the city that he occasionally part-took in after a challenging adventure while following Arthur around the countryside, but for the most part it was already dirtied water by the time he could afford it. The luxury of having a tub in a private room filled with clean hot water was something he swore he would never take for granted.

"Last night, and even this morning, you seemed a bit more, how shall we say, confident in your skills," her voice teased and she felt him tense a bit behind her. "Was it the magic, or are you just a natural?"

"Uh… well," he shifted a bit uncomfortable with her inquisition, "Actually, it was Gwaine and Arthur's doing."

Morgana sat up and turned to face him, her eyes wide and a brow raised, questioning the implications.

"Not like that!" He responded defensively. "They decided that I needed some experience and so Arthur paid Gwaine to take me to… a … brothel and set up some …ahem, lessons." His eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid the embarrassment of looking at her directly as he said it.

Her lips pinched together to hide the smirk as she watched the flush fill out his cheeks and creep into his ears. His black hair was a bit longer and shaggier than he used to keep it, so only the outer rims of the ears were visible. She traced a line from the center of his chest where the water stopped up to his cheek and gently encouraged him to finally meet her gaze, "Perhaps we should get out of the bath and you can show me more of what you learned."

* * *

 

"I know there is a knight of Camelot being kept around here, Bricius. I don't suppose you would know where he would be?" The strange woman's lips formed the words, but the voice that came out was without a doubt that of Morgause.

The druid looked away and shook his head.

"Oh, come now. I know you far too well for you to lie to me. It serves us both for you to tell me. My son became a knight for a while and the one I seek was his mentor. He was also the one who called him a traitor and set Arthur Pendragon against him though Mordred was innocent." Her half-lie served its purpose and lit a fire in the druids eyes. "So, I ask you again, do you know where this Sir Leon is?"

He didn't know how Morgause had come back into being after so long, or how she had gained her information. The High Priestess always had ways of finding information that no mortal or druid could hope to possess. Her words served to confirm some of the rumors he heard, including how young Sir Mordred was not among the knights that returned. His body was not brought back to Camelot with the others, and his name was not mentioned during the funeral services. Had he known the man he and his kin were caring for was the same that man to bring about the death of his nephew he would have taken matters into his own hands. However, with the Priestess before him in a new body, he thanked the spirits that the blood would not be on his hands directly. "Meet me at the edge of the forest tonight, while the others are asleep, I will take you to him," He finally said to the woman.

* * *

 

"What are your orders?" A filthy man, face heavy with a ruddy beard asked the man next to him.

"We know their numbers are small, but that the fort is well protected by the hills," the blond responded sitting on the rail of the porch entrance to his hall. He spat over his shoulder. "It's a small matter though."

The red-haired man nodded his agreement. "And what of the rumors of sorcery and dragons?"

Maelgwn shrugged. "Frightened minds of a barbarian people who can't admit to losing a battle because they were weak."

The other man lifted an eyebrow. He wouldn't dare disagree with his king, but more than one captured Saxon had told the same tale under torture and his instincts urged him not to completely disregard it as the blond man appeared to do.

"We will crush the Camelot forces and I will bed the wench to put my child in her belly. As the sister to Camelot's king that will give us the leverage we need to expand our territories around Lothian," He smiled at his second in command. "I think we'll give the boy a bit more time to make certain my gift has been received. Prepare the men to ride out on the morrow."

* * *

 

Snuggled together, their lips millimeters apart, blue eyes gazing lovingly into green ones, refusing to leave the warmth of the bed and each other, was how the morning sun found Merlin and Morgana.

Already awake, they were speaking in hushed tones. "So, you really want me to grow the beard back?"

"Mmhmm," she responded, "Why did you get rid of it in the first place?"

"A few reasons."

"Such as?"

"Whenever my mother or Gaius looked at me, I felt they were seeing my father more than me after a bit. Although, it was a lot of fun for the first few days, with Arthur doing everything he could, including ordering me to shave it. He tried to set George on me about it.  Poor man, I truly scared him with my threat if he did anything of the sort. Gwen liked it and that set Arthur off even more."

She giggled against his chest as he described most of the situation, purposely leaving out the part of Lisanor's comment and then him wanting a fresh start the next day after he and Morgana's brief conversation through the scrying bowl. "I believe the queen had to discard the dress entirely after Arthur's reaction."

"Oh, I bet that was truly a sight to behold. He finally gives up and then you do what he was asking, that is so typical of you." She rolled her eyes.

"Isn't it though?" He grinned, nuzzling against her ear

"Mmhmm. I thought you would have dragged your mother along on this trip."

"Well, she's been a bit preoccupied lately." Merlin began telling her about how he suspected his mother found herself a husband.

She relished hearing him speak. Getting to finally know the man he had become. The month after the battle had been spent focusing on getting to know herself and drawing out of the evil that had plagued her for so long. Morgana knew what he was like, but hadn't taken the time to really get to know who he was or what his life had been like during those years of her hazy existence.

A soft knock at the door alerted them that the reality of the day would soon break through into their peaceful bliss. George quietly let himself in, assuming the newlyweds were still asleep. Keeping his back to the bed, the servant silently went about his duties. The couple watched him quietly while he set the table for them to break their nightly fast. George moved to a small trunk and pulled out a leather wrapped shaving kit. He made his way over towards the dressing table with it.

"George, you might as well put that away. I don't think my husband is going to need it for a while," Morgana said brazenly.

The servant actually startled and dropped the kit, his eyes wide towards the bed and a look of horror on his face. Merlin burst out laughing.

Clearing his throat, George quickly regained his composure and picked up the tools. A perfectly pleasant smile was instantly on his face as he addressed them, "Of course, My Lady." He quickly tucked the shaving implements back into the trunk. "I'll go see to your meal," He stated professionally offering the couple a curt bow before leaving the room. He did however manage a quick glare at Merlin as the door closed, which only served to cause the warlock to laugh harder.

* * *

 

Arthur awoke feeling as if he hadn't slept a wink. After the fairy, he had gone to find his wife and enjoyed a quiet supper with her before realizing the newlyweds were obviously avoiding him and any sort of planning. He couldn't blame them as he recalled his first few weeks of marriage. When he and Guinevere had cuddled together in bed that night, he took advantage of his wife's pleasant and upbeat mood, noticing how different it was as they coupled, almost like it had been in the first year of their joining. The king planned to ask her about it in the morning, but that was before he had begun tossing and turning with nightmares he couldn't quite recall. He felt as if a dark cloud had descended on him during the night.

Guinevere was already up and dressed by the time he exhaustively hauled himself up to a sitting position.

"Well, good morning, my love." She smiled gleefully before noticing his beleaguered state. Frowning she poured a cup of water and brought it over to him. "Arthur, are you alright?"

He nodded. "Just tired. I think the journey and all its excitement has caught up with me." Arthur smiled and accepted the water. He tried joking, "I'm not as young as I used to be!"

Gwen lips were pinched as she watched him. "Are you certain that is all it is?"

"Yes, I'm certain. Give me a bit to get moving and I'll bounce right back," he handed the cup back to her and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He swallowed back the wave of dizziness that came upon him.

Gwen dropped the cup and reached to steady him. Years of being at his side told her this wasn't as ordinary of an occurrence of age and weariness as he tried to make it seem. "I'm going to go get Merlin, just in case." This time he didn't argue.


	75. Chapter 75

"You need to get out of here before the others wake up and come to check on him," Bricius told Morgause. He knew that most of the others would already be up and about beginning their daily routines and rituals. He waited by the edge of the forest for hours earlier for the priestess, only to have her arrive in the wee hours of the morning. Too close to sunrise for his liking. The druid took her around from the backside of the small temple where they were less likely to be seen if any of the other druids or one of the Catha happened to be awake. Under the blanket of pre-dawn he brought her into the temple where she smiled coldly upon seeing the knight laid out on a bed.

"This won't take long, my dear Bricius," Morgause made her way to Leon's side. A simple spell is all it would take to kill one of Arthur's most loyal knights and exact her mild lust for revenge against Lady Thea for not utilizing the mirror herself. If she had, then the priestess would have had a link to Camelot once more. The question of Morgana still plagued heavy on her thoughts. Yet no amount of scrying had given her any glimpse of her younger sister's location. Her first inclination was to try the place where her spirit was separated from Morgana's body, but that yielded nothing. She was still too weak in the former druid girl, because of the injury from the sword and also the physical body itself. Although Sefa's father had some druid magic, there was nothing of the sort in the girl to truly regain the level or power Morgause craved she would need to find someone with at least a hint of the old religion to tap into and who was weak enough for her to take over.

It was obvious after her battle against Merlin in the seaside castle that she required something more inside to defeat him. If it hadn't been for the meddling Clarissant, the potent Dragon Stone would have been more than sufficient in focusing her spiritual control of magic. As it was, most of her own energy had been used to keep Bran's body in her control, yet even that required assistance from the dragon to accomplish. She could feel the Catha Priests outside, for the time being they were too strong for her to use and the druid magic just wasn't enough. So she would settle for a taste of victory in this one simple act and worry about the rest later.

It sickened her to resort to the simplistic tools of a hedge witch, but that did not deter her as she plucked a few hairs from the sleeping knight's head. Pulling a poppet out of the bag she kept under her cloak she wrapped the strands into the straw doll. Morgause's eyes glowed as she spoke an incantation over the doll.

Bricius's eyes darted from Morgause to the door, hoping she would finish before any of the others came in.

Morgause suddenly staggered back a step as her spell completed. "There is some sort of protection on him," her eyes glared accusingly at the druid.

"I did not know. I would have told you if I knew, I swear to you. After what you told me of my nephew, I want him dead almost as much as you," He hissed out defensively. Bricius spun towards the door, hearing voices moving towards the temple. "Hide, someone is coming!"

Morgause moved quickly to a deeply shadowed corner and tucked herself tightly against the wall. She watched the druid lean against a nearby pillar, attempting to appear as if he was simply keeping watch.

A young woman entered the temple; her hair was a mixture of browns with blond and reddish highlights that looked like dark amber honey pulled back into a simple loose braid that shielded her face from Morgause's viewpoint. She looked at the druid and her voice spoke of a friendly smile as she addressed him, "Bricius, have you been standing watch all night?"

"Aye, Lady Lisanor, I have," He responded trying to keep his voice equally as cordial.

"Well, go get some rest, then. I'm sure you could use it."

He cast a quick glance at the corner where the priestess stood and back to the woman before him. "Oh, I'm fine. Still have a few hours in me."

Luckily for Morgause Lisanor missed the glance. "Nonsense, you and your people have already been so kind in assisting, not only with restoring the temple, but with everything else as well. I feel that if I don't do my part in sitting with Sir Leon, I would just be taking advantage of you all."

"Well, if you really want to show your gratitude, My Lady," He said with a hint of flirtation, "You wouldn't happen to have one of those little oat cakes you bake do you?"

She laughed as if she should have expected the request. "You know I always do up at the house. I'll just leave my sewing basket here and go get one for you."

"Thank you, My Lady." He kept the smile on his face until he was certain she was far enough away. Spinning back to Morgause, "You need to get out of here now. I'll try and find out what I can about the protection on him and let you know."

"You do that Bricius," She sneered, her eyes still following the path the other woman had taken, "and enjoy your 'oat cake'." Morgause pulled the hood of her cloak over the lackluster brown hair of her borrowed head and slipped out of the temple unseen.

* * *

 

"Will you both quit fussing about me? I'm perfectly fine! See!" As if to prove his point Arthur began jumping up and down, then smiled and stretched his arms out as if he were preparing for training.

Merlin had still been plagued with the giggles from the last image of George's face, while he was wrapped up in his wife's arms when the queen burst through their door unannounced. His jovial mood dashed away quickly when he saw her. The frantic state of panic was riding just below the surface of her queenly demeanor. Luckily for him, he was wearing his night clothes, so he didn't have a reason to be embarrassed as he rushed out the door and over to the king's room.

His first impression of Arthur was the heavy bags under the king's eyes and a slight flush to his skin. Arthur had managed to get himself to Merlin's favorite chair near the desk and window by the time the warlock arrived. Gwen and Morgana were right on Merlin's heels and putting on a show of just how 'fighting fit' he was seemed to be Arthur's only priority.

 _Take Gwen out of here, please. I don't think Arthur will talk to me about this with her_ , Merlin sent the mental message to his wife.

Morgana tried to run her fingers through her hair and then sighed heavily, "Gwen, do you think you can help me again?"

"What, now?" The queen asked incredulously. She shifted her gaze from Morgana to Merlin. She was certain that they were somehow conspiring to remove her from the room and she had half a mind to stay put. Brown eyes then turned to Arthur and she realized her husband's stubbornness would keep him from admitting any weakness in her presence. Her hands fell to her sides in a gesture of defeat. "Alright, it is a mess, isn't it?"

The women left the room. The moment the door closed Arthur sank back into the chair, exhaustion evident on his face. "I'm running out of time, aren't I?" His voice held a hint of melancholy as he gazed out the window.

Merlin sat down on the hearth nearby and offered a shrug. "What happened?" He asked after a moment.

Arthur released his breath in a huff, "I honestly don't know, although I am feeling much better. It was like there was something or someone standing over me and… I cannot even begin to explain it. But, I felt weak as if they were trying to suck the life out of me."

"Let me look at the scar," Merlin said, as he pushed himself off the hearthstones.

Arthur lifted his nightshirt so the warlock could see it.

"No difference that I can see," he commented after the examination. "I don't think it would be wise to dally any longer, though."

"What about Mordred's blood? What good would it do to get this cauldron and not have everything else you need?" The king asked dejectedly.

"I'd rather just get it and worry about that later. I'm sure something will come to me." Merlin tried to put on a brave smile for his friend. "Let's focus on what we can do first while…"

"While I'm still healthy enough to fight?"

Merlin nodded. "Was it finally decided on who is coming with us?"

"Myself, Percival, Gwaine, Cai, Bedivere, Josiah and Tarnin are the knights. You, and I assume we're taking Bran, plus a couple of squires to help mind the horses and about five of the guard."

The warlock knew the other two knights as they had been among those afforded places at the Round Table, but he wasn't as familiar with them as he was with the others. "Are you sure it's wise to take that many after what I told you?"

"I think we'd be fools not to, if the fight ahead is anything like you promised."

He couldn't argue with his king on that point. Merlin's one meeting with the giant before was simply to gain information and most of the interaction the warlock had bluffed his way through. He was not looking forward to actually trying to force Dyrnwch to give up the object in question.

"The rest will stay here. Last night I arranged for two guards to go out searching for Gilli. I would have hoped he'd be back by now with news."

"Me, too. It would've been ideal to have another person with magic with us."

Arthur chuckled, "We could always take Morgana."

"Yeah I thought about that, but I think I'd rather have her here to organize things and look after everyone else. I think she should be put in charge of the men you leave here."

"Oh?" The king's eyes widened slightly at the suggestion. He honestly had not considered that possibility, though knowing his sister, it did make sense. He smirked at Merlin, wanting to hear the man's own reasoning for such a suggestion. "Why?"

"Well, aside from being your sister, she has experience - from sitting in with Uther and yourself for years, then commanding troops of her own. I think it would be a good idea for those that are here from Camelot to see that she isn't the same person we'd been fighting, but also allow her to see it as well."

"I concur," The king nodded. "Tell the men to get ready.  If possible we'll leave within the hour."

* * *

 

His mouth moved over hers hungrily, and she clung to him like a lifeline of air in the sea of uncertainty. "Morgana, my love," he pulled back breathlessly. "I have to go."

"I know. I just can't help worrying."

"And I will be thinking about you just as much especially with this guy out there and we still don't have his response to the invitation." After getting everything packed, Merlin had said his goodbye to Aithusa first, making her promise to behave and help Morgana look after everyone being left behind. Now he held his new wife in his arms, feeling a reluctance to leave he'd never experienced before.

"You need to take care of Arthur first. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he were to falter here when his salvation could be so close."

"Are you sure you're going to be able to handle everything while we're gone? We shouldn't be more than a few days at most."

"Merlin, I'll be fine," She laughed at his overbearing concern. Grasping the pendant, "I have this and we've realized I can reach you with it. Plus, with Aithusa here, if Maelgwn comes we'll be ready to either explain that the wedding is done, but he would be welcomed to stay and celebrate upon your return, or… we'll handle him." She understood his concern, but he had been nagging about the different details since walking back into their room after his conversation with Arthur.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Just promise me you won't take any unnecessary chances or do anything stupid like anger  _another_  king while I'm gone," He said with a teasing smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The crinkle in her nose was beginning to take shape as she felt a growing annoyance.

"I just mean I don't want to come back and find I have to try and rectify another situation because you might have inadvertently given someone the wrong initial impression," Merlin attempted to explain, still thinking they were simply bantering.

Although she had planned to find some way to teach Merlin a lesson after his visit in the late fall, upon actually meeting with Maelgwn her mind quickly dismissed the idea of the stinky short Viking who wouldn't know a bath if he was dropped in one head first. Morgana shoved away from her husband a couple steps. "Do you think I wanted this filthy rat to send me gifts  _and_  threats all winter? I did not do this on purpose!"

"I never said you did!" His voice was an irritated hiss suddenly confused by the turn of her mood.

"Well, that's what you implied!" She responded, her tone growing louder. Her green eyes narrowed at him.

"Listen, you are the one who threatened me when I last left that you would show me how 'the game' was played! How am I to know that wasn't what you originally thought to do when you first met the guy?" Merlin's voice rose to match hers.

Morgana laughed disdainfully, "Oh, ho! So you are saying it was my fault!"

"INCREDIBLE!" Merlin spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, the door closing loudly behind him.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Morgana practically screamed as she raced out after him and into the courtyard.

Arthur and the rest were waiting on their horses, while the newlyweds said their farewells. Arthur and Percival both recalled the first times they had left on patrol after being married, and were quietly discussing the tears and the heartache at leaving their new brides behind. When the door slammed open they were unprepared for the fiery looking warlock glowering as he approached his horse.

"Where the hell are you going?" Morgana came out following him in a fluster.

He spun back around. "I don't want to argue with you, Morgana!"

"Who's arguing?"

Merlin's face contorted in rage. "You are! If you wouldn't jump to conclusions about what I say, then we wouldn't have this problem."

"If you would mind your words better and quit nagging me about what I already know, then no, we wouldn't!" She agreed hotly.

He shook his head and turned back towards his horse and did not see the golden fire appear in her eyes as she cast a spell. He swung his leg over the saddle to find everyone staring at him. He rolled his eyes and urged his horse to move forward through the gates.

The rest of the party glanced at each other, their eyes wide and lips tight as they followed after Merlin. It wasn't until the group was out of earshot that the remaining people in the keep began to roll with laughter.

* * *

 

It was all Arthur and the rest could do to maintain straight faces as they rode on towards the base of Snowdon Mountain.

Merlin sat atop his horse in silence. The scene earlier was not how he had pictured the first time he left his wife to play out. He reluctantly admitted to himself that perhaps he did not approach the conversation right, however she didn't have to react the way she had.

When they finally settled down for camp, Merlin felt exhausted and he was ready to just crawl into his bedroll to sleep. He sat down next to the fire and it was then he realized that not a single one of the other men, or Bran would look him in the eye. In fact they were avoiding looking at him period.

"So, what? I'm not allowed to have an argument with my wife?" He asked in confusion, turning his glare on them all.

That was all it took for Gwaine to collapse to the ground in laughter. Soon followed by the howling guffaws of everyone else while Merlin sat there, open mouthed trying to figure out what had gotten into them all. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, vainly attempting to stave off the headache that was creeping in. He rolled his eyes and that was when he first noticed it. Scrambling to pull his hair down to where he could see it. His eyes crossed as he stared in total disbelief at the strange coloring of it. He grabbed for his dagger and managed to slice a small lock of hair off from near the back, he stared at the bright orange strands in his hands as comprehension dawned on him. "Oh, she is going to pay for this!"

Gwaine couldn't help himself, "Gotta admit, my friend, you look good as a ginger!"

Merlin gave his companion a glare. Gwaine was grinning at the warlock when he noticed the flash of gold in the blue eyes. "Oh, you didn't?" He accused before shaking his own longer hair down in front of his eyes, he guffawed at the bright pink color that nearly glowed in the light of the campfire.


	76. Chapter 76

He was tired, wet, and more miserable than he had ever been before in his life; one horse, two heads of his supposed guards, and Gilli was completely and utterly lost. King Dragon-wanna-be purposely set him on the wrong path he was sure. With no map, no idea of the area… "If he wanted me to get back there he should have given me a damned guide!" The young man screamed to the trees. He got turned around not too long after crossing the bridge from the Island and ended up at the seashore within a less than an hour. Heading back the other way he managed to find some high ground where he could see the tall, still snow capped peaks in the distance to the south of him.

He thought for sure he'd be able to keep them in sight and find the correct road, but after nearly a day and a half of travel, he'd somehow lost sight of them between the hills and valleys covered by forest. He had been leading his horse through the undergrowth with the two heads, which unfortunately didn't have the conversation skills of the head he helped Merlin track down his first day back in Camelot. Nor did either of them possess the ability to stay fresh. Flies had begun buzzing around them since before Maelgwn ordered them to be packed up. At least one of them was missing an eye due to the crows.

"When I get back there," He said to no one in particular, "I am going to have a talk with Merlin and quit. I swear it. THIS IS NOT WORTH IT!"

He knelt down at a stream to get a drink, its banks nearly overflowing with the spring thaw that ran off the mountains and the inward flowing of the high tide pressing against the water's sea shore escape a league or so out. An odd buzzing sound reached his ears and he moved his hands to try and bat away the newest of the flying insects, probably attracted by the smell of decay. The buzz increased in speed and Gilli noted that he was losing his mind, thinking he could hear whispers emanating from it as well.

His eyes went crossed as a pinkish colored bug, larger than a butterfly tapped his nose. Only he realized it wasn't an insect. "Oh, lovely.  Now I know I'm seeing things! Hallucinating, while lost in a forest is not what I signed up for when I took this babysitting job, I'll have you know," he told the creature, which he now realized looked like a young girl with wings.

The pixie giggled and touched his nose again before flitting off a little ways. Gilli shook his head and made no move from the stream. The girl flew back and grasped the mane of his horse, appearing to try and pull the beast into following her before she released the coarse hair and sped off again.

"Fine, I get the hint.  You want me to follow you," He sighed. "Huzzah! Now I'm chasing a pink bug girl. so I can get even more lost." Gilli had tried using his magic to summon a map earlier in a small patch of bare ground, but his unfamiliarity with the areas this far north of Camelot proved to be of no real use. Faced with the choice of running around in circles of his own volition or following a pixie that was probably a figment of his imagination, the boy gave a resigned sigh and led his horse after the pink fluttering speck.

The young sorcerer could tell it was getting later in the afternoon by the time the pixie thing stopped. Many times while following her, he had to backtrack around some extremely dense underbrush or had to find a way around a rocky outcrop, and he couldn't understand what the frilly little thing was thinking when she darted straight up the face of a ravine. Suddenly, he heard voices echoing from the other side of a copse of trees. He dropped the reins of the horse and managed to quietly make his way towards them.

He let out a hoot of triumph that startled the two men wearing Camelothian tabards. Gilli spun around, eyes searching the area to thank the little pixie, but she was already gone.

* * *

 

Arthur was doing his best not to lose his cool each time he glanced at Merlin or Gwaine. The inside of his cheek was already raw from the number of times he bit down his laughter.

Although he tried quite a few different spells, all Merlin succeeded in accomplishing was two streaks of black hair extending from each of his temples back towards the base of his skull. The majority of it was still the bright coppery color that Morgana had cursed him with. The warlocks blue eyes, normally dark and shadowed by the raven hair stood out in stunning, albeit somewhat disconcerting, contrast to the new color.

The warlock had offered to change Gwaine's hair back to its original color, but the roguish man waved him off. He could see how much it annoyed the King and as he so casually explained, "If this is the princess's last big bru-ha then I want to be certain he remembers me in the afterlife."

Most of the snow in the lower elevations of the massive mountain had already disappeared with the spring rains, leaving behind a mess of slick muddy ground. There was still a good amount of chill in the air, as the wind blew over the still ice capped peaks and down the sides of the mountain. Far above, it appeared as if the mountainous ridges were smoking in the cold air, as the warmth of the sun vaporized the topmost layer of ice and snow.  Meanwhile, underneath that it liquefied and drained out into cold streams that cascaded into waterfalls down the sides of the mountain, either pooling in lakes or joining together to form the rivers that met near places like his own keep and the township nearby before working their way down to the bay of the peninsula.

Merlin pulled his mount to a halt and looked ahead at the overgrown path they had been following. In the distance the broken towers of a once proud fortress stood menacingly silent against a cliff face. The dark stone of what was once battlements from centuries long past were crumbled and leaning precariously over the sides, only seemingly held by the moss and lichen that clung to the cracks, the mortar long since wasted away and broken out by roots from browned grasses and small dying trees that attempted to make purchase in the crevices. The sun was low enough to the west that the ruins, set deep into a bowl on the eastern side were clouded in shadows.

He could already sense the powerful magic within, a gloomy contrast to the grove or even to Avalon, it sent a chill through him and he was reminded of the deep cold he experienced when the Doracha were freed from the veil.

On his only other trip to the mountain, Merlin had made it to the outer wall when he met the giant, not wishing to travel further in. Behind the massive creature he could see the mouth of the cave leading back into the hillside, but beyond that everything was darkness. According to Vivienne's knowledge of the Old Religion there was supposed to be a gateway here, tucked away and once guarded by warrior priests that preceded the current version of the Catha. The warlock felt certain the crumbling walls were the place the ancient priests once held vigil against those that sought the doorway.

Not long after, the men dismounted, as the terrain was becoming too treacherous for the horses to manage safely. Sir Josiah's mount was already suffering a minor limp from a rock that slipped in the mud under its hoof.

"Let's make camp here for the night," The king suggested as they reached a somewhat level plateau a few hundred yards below the keep. A fresh spring bubbled forth from an outcropping nearby and it seemed to be the only place on the side of the mountain that offered any half-decent protection from the elements, "We can rest up; leave the horses and extra gear here to continue on in the morning."

There was no disagreement to his reasoning as the shadows of the evening lengthened into dusk. Each man began to unpack and set up for their nightly camp. They discussed their plans for the following day as they ate cold travel rations around the meager campfire Merlin magically enchanted so as not to waste the wood that the squires and servants remaining behind with the horses could use. Near about true sunset, though from their vantage point on the eastern side they weren't able to see it, most of them had settled into their bedrolls and were beginning to doze off.

Merlin sat on a boulder near the edge of the firelight, his gaze drifting up to the ruins; he allowed his mind to float between thoughts as he tried to hold back the anxiety of what the next few days might mean for them all. He looked around at the knights and squires and pushed aside the words from Taliesin's book before they could take root.

"He wasn't always accurate in his prophecies, you know," Bran spoke up as if reading the warlock's mind

Merlin graced the head with a look of surprise. "It speaks!" He said jokingly trying to deflect from his apprehension.

For the most part of the recent journey the prince of Corbenic had remained silent. "I have spoken more in the last few months than in the almost three centuries previous. What would you have me say? The only reason you are wasting energy to carry me along is because of pity. You would know the cauldron by the magic within it even without me to verify its appearance. But to bring you back to the subject, Taliesin – by the time he wrote that was quite mad. In fact when we were at the Crystal Cave I believe he was the most sane I had ever known the bard to be."

Merlin didn't feel like dealing with the prince's own deprecating feelings at the moment so he turned the conversation towards the giant, "Dyrnwch isn't going to give it up."

"Probably not, most giants are rather possessive of their things, especially if there is magic involved. I've fought my fair share, and even with sorcerers at my side it was a tough fight."

"I managed to bluff him last time with a show of my own," He pointed to what appeared to be a more recent collapse of a tower. "I kind of made a few stones on the mountain shake and that nearly dropped on his head. However, I'm more concerned if he retreats deeper into his lair."

"If he does he'll be cornered and actually easier to fight," Bran offered in his experience.

Merlin shook his head dejectedly, "No, he won't be cornered and we will be going to hell to follow him."

"I know you said that before, however just because the text stated…"

"I can feel it, Bran," Merlin stated firmly. "The mountain holds a gateway and I'm certain that Dyrnwch knows that too. I have been assaulted before by the creatures that come from the world beyond and lost…" His voice trailed off.

"What happened?" The head asked, he could tell that whatever it was weighed heavily on the man.

Merlin glanced around and noticed that only Percival seemed to still be awake as he stood guard a little ways away. He could tell the large man had been listening to the conversation silently. They shared a sad smile, both remembering the sacrifice, no longer tainted by the memory of the shade that returned. Percival moved closer towards them, a nod of Merlin's head inviting him to join the conversation.

"We lost Lancelot," The blond man said quietly.

Merlin took a deep breath and straightened his back, his eyes glazing over as he watched the fire, "Arthur may be my best friend, but Lancelot was probably my truest friend."

"As he was for me as well," Percival put a hand on the warlock's shoulder. Although Merlin had explained the incident of the knight's return to Camelot after his death, Percival always thought there was more to the story of the man's death than just the part of the story he knew.

"This is the same Lancelot that is young Galahad's father?"

Both men nodded before Merlin began explaining the story, this time including how he was healed by the villa and introducing his friend to the Great Dragon.

"Merlin," Percival questioned, "If what you believe is true and there is a gateway to the world beyond, do you think we will see him there, so I can apologize for not recognizing that it wasn't him last time?"

The warlock snickered softly and shrugged, "That I don't know, but even if we don't, I'm sure he understands and holds no grudge against any of us for that time. Even in the afterlife, it just wouldn't be in his character."

* * *

 

"Last chance, if anyone wants to turn back," Merlin announced to the group, his voice as distant as his thoughts as they prepared to leave the camp the next morning.

Gwaine began to open his mouth, but the king headed off the knight's commentary, "Say anything Gwaine and I will order Merlin to add blue streaks to compliment the pink in that hair of yours permanently. Now, let's move out!" Arthur commanded to the men making the final push up the hill to the ruined fortress towards certain doom.

 


	77. Chapter 77

Morgana bit back against the taste of bile that rose in her throat as she glanced towards the severed heads. She was reluctant to admit that Arthur's new manservant coming back alive himself was a bit of a surprise. Gwen stood beside her, these were her men more than Morgana's and she took a quiet moment to grieve for them.

"What is our next course of action?" The queen asked, referring to her husband's wishes that Morgana be left in command.

"The only one available to us. We prepare for battle," Morgana said bringing a measure of steely cold to her voice.

The queen nodded her agreement and began giving orders, "George, make sure all the supplies are accounted for; organize some men to go out hunting and to the nearby villages to buy what we can."

"Also, have someone alert the people of Bedekelert, I doubt if Maelgwn will do anything to them, but they should be warned, none-the-less. Send a rider to the copper mine, see if they would be willing to assist us," Morgana called to the knight commander that was left in charge as he prepared to send out patrols. The maps of the region were already marked with the best places for scouts to set up watch.

Gwen looked around at the sudden flurry of activity. "I'll go help Clarissant and Rita make sure the children are safe. Perhaps we should evacuate them to the port town?"

"Aithusa will refuse to go, and even if she does, she will come back. Although, Galahad and the others should be taken to safety," Morgana agreed. Even for her young years, the dragon child had already been a part of more battles than many of the men currently in residence. As much as it pained her to use the girl in such a way, Aithusa in her true form was probably the best weapon available to them.

She moved through the keep and up to the parapet, her heart fluttering madly. As of this moment she had no idea how far behind Gilli the 'dragon king' could be, or what his forces would look like when he arrived. According to what Gilli had seen and heard, the man had a large army possibly numbering in the thousands if all of his encampments and various outposts were taken in account.

She fiddled with the pendant around her neck, part of her wanted to call for Merlin. Having the space of more than a day to cool off, she was beginning to regret her words, yet on the same token she wanted to prove to him that his fears, even if they were promoted by his vision in the cave, were unfounded. She drew on her innate stubbornness, knowing that her longing for the man would serve no purpose at the moment, except to distract him from the path his own destiny had chosen.

Thus was the weight and duty of a nobleman's wife. To keep watch, despite the heartache and loneliness, and care for those left behind.

* * *

 

Chestnut locks blew in the wind, it was unseasonably warm as it came off the sea and danced its way over the hills towards the keep. All her life she had wished for a place like this, quiet, and a man strong and gentle who wished for nothing but to please her. It was perfect and serene and it felt comfortable. It had only been four days since their arrival she could already see herself settling here. Although she knew Percival's place, once this was all said and done, would be back in Camelot beside the king and her place would be beside him. For so long she virtually locked herself away, unable to participate with the world for fear that her late husband would find a fault with her that when she was saved and taken to the great city it was overwhelming. Her hands drifted to her abdomen unconsciously as her mind thought about what the future may bring.

Near to midday, three men arrived back at the keep, two guards and the servant, Gilli, who had taken a message to the local king. The other two who had accompanied the boy out on the mission were nowhere to be seen. Clarissant felt her heart drop as she watched from a distance when the Lady Morgana's face turned cold with whatever news they brought her. Soon the bustle of activity increased and she heard the first whispers of a possible siege.

Guinevere found her later in the garden area of the keep, away from all the activity, as Clarissant sat on a bench sorting through seeds that would be need to be planted. Or she was until her thoughts began running to the child she suspected was growing inside of her. Other than Gwaine, she kept the information private. "Clarissant, is everything alright?" The queen asked, concern etching her face and her chocolate eyes rimmed with unshed tears.

Clarissant nodded. "I suppose. I'm just scared."

Gwen followed her friend's gaze and immediately understood. "Oh, are you…?"

Their eyes met and Clarissant bowed her head bashfully. She knew how much the queen wished for a child and a part of her felt guilty for conceiving so easily. "I should have probably continued taking the herbs from the midwife back in Mercia, but with Guirom dead it didn't occur to me. Then Percival and I… it has only been a few times that we have … so I didn't think… I'm so sorry… I," She sniffled and tried to hold back her flood of emotions

Gwen immediately engulfed her in an embrace. "You have nothing to be sorry for! Why would you even say such a thing?"

"Because, I know how much you long for this, and I have lost… Oh, Gwen, what if I lose this one too? I couldn't even tell Percival before he left; now he's gone and we're going to be facing a battle here." She collapsed, sobbing in the queen's arms.

"Shhh, none of that," Gwen comforted, "You are never,  _ever_ , to apologize for such a thing, as your queen that is an order. I know in my heart  _when_  our husbands return we will be here waiting. And soon I will have my own child to look forward to now that the curse has been lifted off of me and we will have our children together and they will grow up being the best of friends."

Clarissant smiled and wiped at her eye., "You're right, of course." She choked back her tears. Now was a time for strength, not for wallowing in maybe's and what if's. Perhaps Camelot wouldn't be so overwhelming with a friend like Gwen to share it with.

Guinevere pulled back and smiled, "Right now though, we do need to plan for what is to come…"

* * *

 

"What were you able to discover?" She asked in anticipation. She had given the druid more than a day before sending him a message to meet at the small tavern in the township.

Bricius looked around nervously. "It appears when they brought him here something happened so a powerful lady showed up and renewed the spells cast. That was just before I arrived."

Morgause's eyes narrowed at the man. "What did she look like?"

"I told you, it was before I got here," He hissed out in annoyance.

"Someone must have told you something," She demanded.

The druid sighed, "One of the Catha said she was dressed in red…"

Morgause's eyes shot wide, she should have known that the red dragon would have enforced the wards around him. There seemed to be much more to this than was evident. A simple knight, even if he was a personal friend to the king, would rarely warrant such measures. The priestess mind searched for anything that might give her a clue. "That woman, the one that was being courted by Emrys, who is she to all this, other than the lady of this estate?" Morgause recalled disguising herself to give the lady the green sash in Camelot and yet she had a feeling that there might be something else she was missing.

"Her family has owned these grounds and the temple for generations, we believe they have a deeper connection to it, but she is innocent in all this, I'm certain."

"A connection you say?"

"Morgause, no. She is a kind woman with a gentle heart. Leave her out of this I beg you," Bricuis pleaded.

The priestess set her glaring eyes on the druid. "My dear man, don't you realize, sometimes sacrifices must be made. But I assure you, I will not cause bodily harm to her." The evil woman sat back, her thoughts racing. If the woman had a connection, it may just be the advantage she needed to access the powers she craved in order to turn the kingdom of Camelot into dust. Much more so than the powerless druid girl she currently inhabited. But for the exchange to take place only the power of a blood sacrifice would work, so if she could figure out a way through the protection surrounding the knight, Morgause thought gleefully she could kill two birds with one spell.

* * *

 

The entire mountain was fogged in, the ruins a hazy shadow against the white. Sir Tarnin was on point as they made their way on foot up towards the dilapidated gates. Everything was silent, as if the mist clouded not only their vision, but all the sounds as well.

"I have a…"

"Shut up Merlin."

"…  _Spell,"_ The warlock continued in a whiny voice with a roll of his eyes, pretending that this was what he meant to say all along. "That might be able to abate the fog a bit. But, it would leave us open to being seen."

"Especially with the beacons of hair you and Gwaine are both sporting."

Merlin sneered and quickly cast a counter-enchantment on the knight, effectively turning the bright pink back to its original dark chestnut.

"HEY!" Gwaine protested a bit too loudly, as was his style. He had really been looking forward to annoying his sister when they returned with the nearly florescent color.

Tarnin held up his hand as he reached the gate. The others spread out, taking cover silently behind the fallen stones. Stealthily the king, Merlin, and the knights began to move past the gates. The silence was broken as they began to hear a soft sound that seemed a mixture of purring and growling and they quickly retreated to their previously vacated positions. Collectively they held their breath, expecting to see a giant, but were unprepared for what happened next.

* * *

 

Loholt shifted anxiously on his feet as he watched the path the men had gone. He was thirteen and a half, almost a man. He longed for the day he would be allowed to carry a sword and accompany the knights. The fog was beginning to abate ever so slightly when he finally pulled himself away from his musings of the future when he could be among the heroes heading towards adventure. He sighed and glanced at the few others still with him and the horses as they maintained the camp. The blond boy grudgingly set about his own duties as he started to organize the belongings of the two men he squired for. Although both were his uncles by blood, Cai had always been the father-figure in their odd little family. Keeping the estate together, watching out for them all, while Bedivere, hot headed and rash, was a gruff uncle.

Bedivere, although Loholt could tell his uncle cared for him, was much stricter and more than once would take a switch to the boy's backside for misbehaving. When the family received the invitation to Camelot his uncle was the worst off. It took two full weeks of learning how to properly attach the shield to his arm that ended in a stump before the man was finally satisfied enough to offer his name into the tournament. Bedivere attempted to get Cai into it as well, but the elder sat back with a laugh and convinced his brother that the glory should be all his. Thankfully, for them all, it was.

Unfortunately the win only increased Bedivere's thirst for perfection, especially with his disability. He had an insatiable hunger for proving he was just as capable as the other knights. The times Loholt had to help prepare his armor and weapons were tenuous. The boy feared letting his uncle down so when his eyes came across a leather strap among Bedivere's belongings, he inhaled sharply. It was one of the needed pieces to help keep the shield in place.

That morning Cai had drilled into Loholt that the boy was not to leave the camp under any circumstances, but Cai wasn't the one that would use the strap the boy now held in his hands across his backside for forgetting it in the first place. Without thinking the boy rushed out of the camp and up the hill attempting to catch up with the knights.


	78. Chapter 78

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thrice the brindled cat hath mew'd
> 
> Thrice, and once the hedgepig whine
> 
> Harpier cries " 'tis time 'tis time..."
> 
> Macbeth, Act 4, scene 1

**Thrice the brindled cat hath mew'd**

**Thrice, and once the hedgepig whine**

**Harpier cries " 'tis time 'tis time..."**

**Macbeth, Act 4, scene 1**

* * *

"But I will have to go tomorrow," he stated, holding his head high. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly.

"I want to go with you," She sniffled, her eyes downcast. "I can help you, and then come back here."

"No, you need to stay here, it is too dangerous out there for you," he admonished with a sigh.

He looked deep into the eyes of the girl he held so dear to his heart, willing her to see the reality of the situation they were in.

She brought her eyes up wearily, anger creeping into them, challenging him to say something like that again.

He frowned. "The road, during a time of war, is no place for a girl."

She made to step closer to the boy and promptly mashed her foot down on his.

"OW!  You stupid duck!"

"I'm a dragon! I can handle being out there more than you -- you puny little human!"

"Little?! I'm bigger than you!" He stepped up to her, towering over Aithusa's petite form.

"Only because I choose it," She hissed out, not breaking eye contact. "Fine, I'm going to stay here with my mam to help in a real battle, while you have to be taken somewhere safe because you're a weakling."

Haddy began laughing, "Yeah right, I can take you out like the little quack you are."

Morgana could feel the power building from across the courtyard, "Aithusa! Knock it off now!"

"But, he started it!"

"Did not! Duck stepped on my foot!"

"I'm not a duck!"

Morgana and Clarissant looked at each other from where they were sitting on a bench near the stables resting in the shade from midday. The raven-haired woman huffed with an impatient groan.

Morgana's eyes turned to the scene before her. The feeling in the air was decidedly different from her hazy memories of previous battles. The people surrounding her now following were not out of fear of her wrath, but out of a common goal to protect the life they wanted. Miners and stone masons worked diligently rebuilding the walls and fortifications for defense, along with them came many of the guards sent out by Caerleon to keep the mine secured. Some were left within the mine and although the entrance was nearly an hours ride from the keep, it had been found recently that some of the shafts connected with natural tunnels that ran through the hills under the meadow vales surrounding it. As a last resort some of the passages could be collapsed with magic to halt additional forces from descending upon them.

Morgana helped magically with what she could, but most of her time had been spent with organizing it all. Gilli, once he had a chance for a nap, some food, and a bit of cleaning added a bit of his own power where he was able, though admittedly weak, even with his father's ring, Merlin had taken to teaching him a bit more during the trip north.

Men from the local towns who had been subjected to the local king's brand of insanity in the past chose to take up the cause and join with them. In a move that shocked Morgana, a few of the monks, left from the devastation her dark-self had wrought upon the abbey not too far away, had come. After the attack, the holy men had approached Maelgwn for assistance only to be turned away and the town threatened to be razed if they allowed such a thing to happen again.

Twice since her rebirth, she had taken the opportunity to visit the village and abbey, offering what she could in compensation for the pain she caused. The monks, forgiving by nature and teaching, accepted her change as proof of their beliefs. Although she disagreed with much of their doctrine, the sentiment was kind and it served to lift some of the weight on her spirit.

For years the 'dragon king' protected much of the region from the Picts, Saxons and the Norse that would occasionally raid the communities, but it came at a price. The combined banners of Lothian, Camelot, and Caerleon from the previous summer had served as a beacon to a new changing world free of the oppressive forces and Maelgwn's heavy taxes. The dream like fairytale life of the cities in the southern kingdoms brought a sense of hope and the walls were bursting as more men and boys arrived to join the cause. More than few had turned back when they realized it would not be the mythical Lord Emrys, whose fame had begun spreading throughout the region, leading them, but still more joined despite having a woman in charge.

Stories from centuries past of Queen Bodicea began in whispers and more than once in passing Morgana heard speculation that she was the rebirth of the ancient war queen. These tales and more gained momentum when some of the druids began to arrive.

She was more than grateful for the servant that decidedly followed her new husband north; vaguely recalling him from her time in Camelot. According to George's last report those from Camelot, servants included, numbered thirty-three. The rest were either gone with the king's party or had been sent to relay word to Caerleon and Lothian. The closest of which was the Lothian border towns, nearly two days of hard ride to the east. Clarissant, Haddy, two guards, and a knight would be riding towards the safety of the port where it was heard a ship flying Caerleon's banner was to make berth the next day.

Other numbers included almost twenty druids from the nearby clans that had set out cleansing and protecting the lands and were determined to guard the Magician's Grove from the threats of a large army. Four monks and three acolytes of the monastery set about to assisting Vivienne in her preparations for the wounded. The laymen and serfs came to just under fifty at last count, thankfully most of which also brought supplies from their own homes to help feed the growing army. Nine trained guards came from the mines, and another ten from the port that wore the blue and black or Caerleon. Morgana's lips twisted into a small grin, when Merlin returned she was really going to have to sit him down and help him design a banner of his own.

She was pulled back to reality by the children who were continuing to argue. "Enough, both of you! Aithusa, you need to go inside and study the book Geoffrey sent up for you."

"Galahad, go see if Rita needs help in the garden, please," Clarissant told the boy adding to the idea of separating the troublemakers. "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!" She hollered at the boy as he nearly ran into the queen as she was coming out of the main doors.

Gwen came to join them smiling at the antics of the children. "He's fine, Clarissant. How are the preparations going?" She asked sitting down next to her friends.

Morgana shrugged, "As well as can be expected. All we can really do now is wait for word from the scouts."

"Have you thought about asking Aithusa to fly out and see if she can see anything?"

"It crossed my mind.  However, she is so easily distracted these days, unlike before," Morgana said, a hint of melancholy etching her voice.

"Before?" Clarissant asked with interest. She figured that Morgana had battle experience, or else the king would not have left his sister in charge. However she had to admit being curious about it. Prior to leaving she had asked Percival, who in a rare moment, only confirmed that it was true, but utterly refused to elaborate on it. It was the closest they had come to an argument since they had met.

Licking her lips, Morgana shifted nervously and crossed her arms over her chest. Gwen reached out and squeezed her arm, lending her strength. Taking a breath Morgana said, "Until last summer... I was a different person then I am now. Just over the hill there are the remnants of the battle I fought against Arthur… and Merlin."

Clarissant blinked, not understanding. "How can you go from fighting against them to now being married to Merlin? Unless, it was because the two of you were trying to say goodbye," The brunette smirked.

Morgana laughed softly, but there was little humor in the sound. "As I said, I was…different. I was…"

"A prisoner," Gwen supplied softly.

"Yes, a prisoner, in my own mind for many years.  Although, even before that I was heading down a rather dark path."

"Morgana…" The queen tried to protest.

"No Gwen, even before I had met Morgause, did you know I tried to have Uther killed a couple of times?"

A concerned 'v' formed in the queen's brow. She bit the corner of her bottom lip trying to remember that time years ago.

"The first time was when your father was killed. And that is when I found the Mage Stone, it caused my magic to awaken. Merlin found out and although I changed my mind at the last minute and killed the assassin when I thought Uther truly felt remorse, he was there.

"That's why he asked me," Gwen said in an 'ah ha' moment.

"Asked you what?"

"If I had a chance to kill Uther, would I? I told him no, because then I would be no better than the king. I think he was going to just let it happen."

"He loves to interfere," Morgana said with bittersweet fondness. "After that, things just went downhill. I met Morgause. She was so full of hate and it spread like a disease from her."

Gwen stifled a sigh, "When she kidnapped you, that's when she took your mind hostage. Oh Morgana, that was so long ago."

Morgana shook her head, "For me, it seems like barely a year and she didn't kidnap me. I was dead, Gwen. She cast a spell to make everyone sleep, but she needed me as the vessel for such powerful magic. I didn't know she had done that, but Merlin found out and he killed me."

The queen looked at Morgana like she had lost her mind. "You don't mean literally?" Back then, especially back then, Gwen couldn't fathom one of her best friends having done something so cruel.

"Quite," Morgana stared at the ground, feeling her throat tightening as she recalled the feeling of the poison and the regretful look on Merlin's face. His arms wrapped around her, tears streaming down his face as he silently asked for her forgiveness. "He poisoned me and used me as a bargaining chip to get Morgause to call of the attack."

She noticed her friends' faces and laughed sadly, "It's alright, I understand now why he did it. He didn't know if he could trust me, nor did he want me to have the burden of choosing my own life over the lives of everyone in Camelot," Morgana continued to tell her tale to the women through much of the afternoon, at least the pieces she remembered, much of which had been filled in by Merlin.

Gwen began adding in her own bits of information that she had discovered along the way, including her suspicions when Morgana began acting a bit out of character upon her return to Camelot.

"So you, or actually your sister, took over Camelot twice?" Clarissant asked to add clarity.

Morgana nodded, "The second time, I still don't recall, Morgause was fully in control by then. I woke up in the forest, with Aithusa sitting on a stump nearby chirping at me. She was barely larger than a cat at that time. I had flashes of what had happened, but hardly recognized myself. One memory stood out clearer than the rest, I was standing on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, the knights were lined up, ready to die, and I saw myself ordering the bowmen to fire. But instead of shooting the knights, they fired into the crowd and I was powerless to do anything. I didn't know if it was one of my nightmares or if it had happened, but I knew then I couldn't return to Camelot."

"I have to say, Morgana, I am very thankful that your sister didn't decide to take a liking to me," The brunette mentioned with a shiver. "Although it does make me feel sorry for that Sefa girl she lives in now."

Gwen gasped, "Did you say Sefa?" Arthur had failed to mention that when he told her of the Perilous Lands. A look from both Morgana and Clarissant asked the queen to elaborate. "She was my maid, but proved to be a traitor. I sentenced her to be executed to try and draw in her father, who was working for you Morgana. When he came, he was mortally wounded, but she escaped."

"I don't remember either of them," Morgana shook her head with a sigh. Just then, the sound of squabbling children forced her to clench her jaw and disrupted her train of thought, "We should have sent them with the men."

* * *

 

_Anglesey_

"Are the men ready?" Maelgwn asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, M'Lord. We have nearly five-hundred with us and many others are awaiting your word to join us."

"Eh, that should be enough to corner them right into the place. They'll be running low on supplies, and we'll change out troops as needed to hold them there until they submit. No need to put all our eggs in one basket, eh?" The blond king laughed as he took a look around and was proud of what he saw. With a roar that belied his short stature he yelled, "Move out!"

* * *

_Snowdon_

A massive form began to emerge against the black background of the cave, the eeriness of the scene sending chills through all the battled hardened men as they collectively held their breaths. The fog created ghostly shadows and at first they weren't certain that what they were seeing was real. The whiskers were the first thing to emerge from the bleak gray. twitching and twisting against the ground as the beast sniffed the air in a hissing noise. A low rumble could be felt more than heard as it emanated from deep within the throat.

Feline ears with long twirling tufts of hair extended upward from the tips of the ears of the largest cat any of them could even imagine. For a moment Merlin. felt his breath hitch as he was reminded of the basset. A glance at Arthur confirmed a similar thought, though for a different reason, had crossed his mind. As the beast emerged further from the protection of the cavern, it luckily had no wings and also appeared to be more of a dark brindled gray color than the midnight black.

The wind shifted and a new sound came to the attention of the men, footsteps running towards them from the hill. Merlin cast a spell in a futile attempt to muffle the sound, though not being able to see made it difficult. Even if it had been successful the keen sense of smell possessed by the great cat appeared to pick up the scent as evidenced by the beast raising it's face to the air and the nostrils flaring and the whiskers twisting in the air furiously.

"Uncle," the teenage voice called out, unable to see the men in the dense mist.

"Damn it!" The king spat quietly. His sword in his hand as his eyes scanned the fog.

The cat crouched, the muscles tensed as it prepared to pounce just as Loholt appeared from the gray in the center of the path.

Merlin stood at the same time Arthur decided to rush forward with a yell, "ON ME!"

"Swilte déor,*" Merlin's voice was low and strong as he cast the spell. Eyes alight with the inner fire but the spell fell short, having little effect beyond a slight twitching of the cats fur as it brushed over the magical beast. He chided himself silently for the casting, The spell worked wonderfully on non-mystical creatures, but it was the first thing that came to his mind in the heat of the moment.

The cat soared over the men in single leap to land on the boy. Loholt's eyes were wide in fear as his body was knocked to the ground and pinned. Josiah was the closest and charged the beast with his sword drawn.

With amazing agility the feline turned on him with its great paw and slammed into the man, claws slicing through the chain armor like fresh churned butter. Josiah's body spun, sword still in hand and fell to the ground unmoving.

The rest were a bit more cautious as they advanced on the beast, attempting to surround it. Merlin gritted his teeth, he planned on trying to shove the beast off of the boy's limp form, but no matter which way it went, his power thrust of magic would send it into one or more of the men, if it even touched the creature. Slowing his time perception didn't have any effect either as this was a beast of the Old Religion, much like the dragons, he realized.

As quickly as it came, the cat grabbed Loholt's body up in it's great maw and sped back toward the cave. Bedivere stood in it's path. The beast sidestepped the massive knight's sword thrust.

In his anger Bedivere swung his shield, the outer edge impaling into the cat's shoulder. The forward momentum didn't even pause and the shield was ripped from the knight's stump arm. A howl of pain told Merlin that the man's shoulder was probably dislocated.

Arthur and Cai were on the beast's heels, side by side, heedless of the danger in the cave, as they raced to save the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kill, wild beast. (From merlin dot wikia )


	79. Chapter 79

Merlin was torn as he stood for a moment staring at the spot in the black mouth of the cave where the king had disappeared. A quick glance at Josiah confirmed what the warlock already suspected. He saw Tarnin moving to assist Bedivere, while Gwaine and Percival started after Arthur towards the cave. Picking up Bran's sling the warlock moved quickly to follow them.

"They are heading to death," the head commented in a grave tone.

"We all are," Merlin deadpanned, feeling an unnatural cold coming from the cave.

"Merlin, do you think you can shed some light in here?" Gwaine asked. He and Percival had paused just inside the entrance, unable to discern the path in front of them. It seemed fairly straightforward, but within the shadows one could never be too certain.

" _Leoht_." A glowing ball of light appeared in his hand casting an eerie blue glow around them. Just inside the entrance the walls appeared to have been carved out by the hands of men at some point. Merlin halted as he looked upon the reliefs etched in the stone. Scenes of men being dragged off by creatures that looked like a mixture of the Doracha and some wild beasts. Unconsciously he took a step back, his mind heavy with the memory of the spirit's touch. His gut told him that Arthur was in serious danger, he willed his feet to move, and his eyes to pull away from the carvings, but neither seemed to listen.

"Merlin, we have to go," Gwaine said, coming up to his friend and taking the younger man by the shoulders, forcibly pulling his attention away.

The warlock nodded, thankful for the distraction and they moved deeper into the gloom.

A few moments later the three men were startled out of their silent trek as they heard something coming from behind. Percival and Gwaine brought their swords to bear and Merlin pulled out his dagger, brandishing it in front of him.

Bedivere, grimacing through the pain, and Tarnin came upon them. Merlin could clearly see the large man's shoulder was dislocated, but he had a makeshift sling holding it out of the way and a determined look on his face. "I'm not letting some stinking pussycat get away with both my shield and my nephew," he growled out, his eyes a dark piercing green against the blue glow.

"What so special about the shield?" Gwaine asked with a roll of his eyes. Since the tournament the rogue knight had attempted on numerous occasions to befriend the misshapen man, but Bedivere was always a grouch, as Gwaine called him. He knew there were special adjustments made to the shield to allow the man to use it without his hand, but other than that, it appeared fairly standard. The shape was a bit different from the square door style that the knight's used being a classic heater shape that tapered to a point at the bottom. It was painted white with a red cross on it, which appeared quite different from the family crest his brother used.

At first, it seemed Bedivere was going to maintain his usual stony silence. "It's been in my family for generations. It used to hang in the shrine, until I needed a shield for the tournament. Cai will kill me if I lose it."

Gwaine laughed, "I've seen him fight a bit, I'm pretty sure you could take him."

"Yeah, but you haven't seen him when he's really pissed," Bedivere stated bluntly. "Takes a hell of a lot to push him to that point, but I almost feel sorry for that cat right now."

The five of them turned back to the tunnel and followed it forward, increasing their pace into nearly a run when they heard the sounds of battle up ahead. Gwaine had a sneaking suspicion that he would soon see what Bedivere meant.

A variety of spells came to Merlin's mind as he followed the knights around the final bend into a chamber that stank of decay and blood. He fought back a wave of nausea and looked around. In the center of the room was a cauldron, larger than he anticipated, otherwise exactly as the texts described except for the green unnatural fire that danced across the top of it. The sight gave him pause, but only for a brief millisecond as the yowling of the large cat turned his attention to the back wall of the eerily lit chamber.

He froze seeing Arthur covered in blood from the beast as he raised Excalibur above it. Cai had obviously lost his sword and was using Bedivere's shield, pulled from the cat's shoulder to bash at the beast in his rage. Loholt lay on the ground below it.

He began moving forward only to find he was suddenly flying sideways into a wall and crashing against it. He briefly noticed the giant before realizing his vision of this scene had come true. One last thought was that the man he recognized, slumped against the wall in the vision was himself and then he was claimed by unconsciousness.

* * *

 

Merlin blinked. His skull was on fire, or at least that's how he felt. As he took a breath he wasn't sure which was worse, the pain or the smell that was even more prevalent than before. One bloodshot eye cracked open and Merlin jumped, his head cracking again against the wall as a face appeared directly in front of his. He groaned and forced his eyes to focus.

Blond hair and blue eyes appeared shadowed in the torchlight and the crooked smile of a king greeted Merlin's eyes.

"That is very annoying," the warlock said, finally realizing it was Arthur, just inches away from his nose.

Arthur grinned wider. "I know!" He laughed.  It was amusing to finally be able to exact a measure of revenge for the number of times he'd awoken from a blow to the head only to see Merlin's face. Stepping back, Arthur held out his arm to assist his friend in standing.

Merlin reached out to take it, but noticed his arm, and then his entire body was covered in a rank slime that dripped messily off him. "How long have I been out?" he said as he brought his arm up towards his nose. He nearly wretched at the odor, the outstretched limb of the king was forgotten.

"A bit," The king chuckled. "Long story short, Cai and I managed to kill the cat thing. Well, Cai did most of it. The others were trying to take on the giant, you got a good bonk on the head. The giant, who was almost as ugly as that troll my father married, knocked over the cauldron, spilling everything out of it," He waved his hand over Merlin, "You were caught in the wave and now need a serious bath.  Although, you aren't the only one."

Merlin's eyes darted around the cave. "What happened to the giant?"

Arthur pursed his lips. "He grabbed the empty cauldron and ran down a tunnel going the other way."

"Loholt? Sir Josiah?" The warlock asked, trying to piece together the events before he'd blacked out.

"The boy appears fine," Arthur stated with a measure of relief in his voice. Then he took a breath before continuing, "Josiah was dead before he hit the ground." It was always a strain on the king to see one of his men fall.

He held out his hand to Merlin again and this time his cousin took it with a word of thanks.

"We have some injuries but most of us are just suffering from minor cuts and bruises. So if you're feeling up to it, we could use your physician skills," Arthur continued explaining.

Merlin nodded and refrained from rubbing the sore spot on his head. If it was an open wound he didn't want to get more of the slime into the laceration. After running through a checklist on himself to check for concussion and injuries Merlin stripped his jacket off and moved to check the others. A quick look over Cai's midsection to make sure the ribs wouldn't puncture anything and he moved onto Loholt. The boy was physically fine as far as he could tell, simply unconscious and a little banged up. He checked Tarnin's leg and did what he could with his magic and mundane skills to at least stabilize it, though he could tell that one of the bones in the calf was shattered under the skin. With a bit of ingenuity they were able to carefully move everyone to the mouth of the cave, far as they could get from the stench of muck that lay thick on the floor of the cavern.

* * *

 

Evening was beginning to fall, and the temperature was dropping on the mountainside rather quickly. Clouds shrouded the peak ridges in a gray blanket promising moisture, perhaps even a late spring snow. He had done all he could for the injuries, including setting Bedivere's shoulder before he finally managed a moment to clean himself and Bran up from the rank soup that now permeated all of his belongings.

Merlin sat down. He wondered if Gilli had returned yet and what the outcome of that would be, although he already had a glimpse of what was heading towards Morgana. He couldn't wait to get back home to make sure she was safe. His eyes glazed over, watching the fire, as he imagined his wife and a nice warm bath.

Gwaine stood above him. "Dreaming of Morgana again?"

The warlock broke out of his reverie and glanced up at his friend with a smile and a nod. He felt relieved to not have to deny the relationship he had wanted for so long.

"Arthur wants us to check out the cave a bit more before we settle in. See if we can figure out which way the giant went before we proceed tomorrow."

Merlin groaned and pushed himself up. "No rest for the weary I suppose."

"Oh come now, Merlin, you already had your nap today," The king joked from the other side of the fire. He was currently sitting next to Loholt, keeping a personal eye on the boy.

Not long after moving everyone outside, Loholt had awoken briefly. Merlin was able check for symptoms of concussion, and luckily found none. However as reality came flooding back to the boy, he began exhibiting symptoms of shock until Merlin finally used a spell to force him to sleep. Since then Arthur refused to leave his side.

He chuckled silently at the sight. Even with Merlin, Arthur typically tried to keep some measure of aloofness, though he would always find a way to encroach into the king's personal space. Gwen was probably the only one who Arthur really allowed himself to show emotion with. Granted every now and again, Merlin was on the receiving end, although it was usually when there was no one watching. To see the king now acting almost like a mother hen to the teenage boy, was a significant change.

Grabbing his things, Merlin decided to leave Bran in the care of one of the servants as he followed Gwaine and Percival back inside the mountain.

Merlin walked carefully behind the two knights, trying to keep his mind from wandering to the cave walls once more. He glanced at the glowing ball of light in his hand and at the back of Gwaine's head, a thought occurring to him as his hand grew tired in the raised position.

A couple of whispered words and he tossed the sphere at Gwaine.

Percival was in the lead, so he didn't notice anything different.

Gwaine thought a bug had flown into the back of his skull but otherwise didn't seem aware of what had happened.

Merlin smirked and wondered how long it would be until the rogue realized his hair now glowed in the dark.

* * *

 

Arthur sighed and watched his three most loyal men walk back into the depths of the cave. They pushed aside their exhaustion from earlier and the grief at losing one of their own. It was simply something they would deal with later, as they always did, as they were schooled to do. The mantra 'No man is worth your tears' that Arthur told his young knights was meant to teach them how to cope and move on in the heat of battle, despite their losses.

He knew his men would follow his orders, despite the pain, not because they feared him or felt obligated to him in some way, but because they believed in him and they were his friends. It left him feeling unbelievably blessed, and yet the burden was almost heavier because of it. He wondered if there was any time his father had felt the same. He knew from the shared vision that there had always been a dark spot on Uther's heart made of jealousy, but at some point the man must have had some light.

He mused about what type of father he might be and then he looked down and studied the boy next to him. He was sure he hadn't been a very good one. When he first found out about Loholt it scared him, though he would never admit such a thing. All the betrayals by his family in the past left him wary. The upheavals and revelations of the previous year, accompanied with a growing sense of mortality ate at his soul. If he acknowledged him, would Loholt then feel that he was due proper retribution? If Arthur didn't- would the boy then feel the same resentment that drove Morgana into the arms of her sister?

Things would have been much simpler if Guinevere had a child already. He was more grateful than he ever could have imagined when his wife told him of the Lady Vivienne's conclusion. He knew part of the reason he had kept Loholt at arm's length was an effort to keep some of the sadness from filling his wife's eyes. Now that seemed to be gone and he considered what that would mean for his relationship with his son.

Despite his attempts to remain detached, when the beast took off into the cave with the teenager, Arthur felt his heart constrict in fear unlike anything he had ever known. Was this the feeling his own father dealt with when Arthur's life was put in danger, he wondered. When Merlin ran headlong into the cave after hearing Aithusa scream, was this the same panic his cousin felt?

He steepled his hands together with his elbows resting on his knees while his eyes absently searched the fire. Searching inside himself for an answer to the turmoil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The large cat was inspired by the legends of Cath Palug (Palug's Cat) Although the text isn't complete – Cai battled against the cat with a shield. Some of the translations and interpretations speculate that it was Loholt who killed the cat, but Cai took credit, however I didn't see that in the story.
> 
> As for the shield – it is from another Arthurian myth and is said to be the shield of Joseph of Arimathea. The red cross painted on it is rumored to be the blood of Jesus. According to the myths it was given to Arthur by a maiden riding on a donkey and set aside until Percival picked it up to use in the Grail quest. But as usual I had to twist these into my own version of fiction.


	80. Chapter 80

 

Percival raised his sword, parallel to his body with the tip up as he slowed down and cautiously peeked around the edge of the wall just before the larger cavern. A dim glow still emitted from the coals of the central fire that the cauldron they had been searching for sat just hours before. The feline body, bloodied and beaten beyond recognition lay in a heap off to the side in what appeared to be its bedding. Nothing moved. The cavern was silent. Vaguely he could make out the tunnel of to the right where the giant had fled.

The large knight turned back to his companions, a request on his lips for Merlin to send some light through, but he was stopped short. He gave Gwaine the oddest look. Trying not to laugh, the question died on his lips. Percival blinked rapidly and still could not seem to formulate the words.

"What?" Gwaine asked, bewildered. He turned to see if Merlin was doing something funny, but noticed the warlock was purposely looking the other way. He shook his head in confusion and that was when the situation suddenly came to light... as his bangs fell in front of his face. He glared at the luminescent strands, his lips twitching under his facial hair as he reached for a response.

Without looking, he reached out and slapped the back of Merlin's still very ginger head, in a rather Arthurian maneuver.

"Ow!" With a soft chuckle Merlin shook his head and brought the glow back into his hand.

Clearing his throat, Percival smiled and finally asked quietly, "Can you send some light around to check the place?"

"Want the whole place lit up or just something for the corners?"

"Hell, light it up!" Gwaine responded with a wide grin.

Percival opened his mouth to respond and then just shrugged. If anything was in there, he felt it might be better to see it as clearly as possible; although if the giant was hidden down the tunnel, he'd be able to see them coming.

Merlin closed his eyes, concentrating on his small sphere. When he opened them, they glowed with the inner fire and he sent the ball in an underhanded spin away from him towards the center of the room. The illumination from the ball began to spread and soon there were no shadows left in the room.

What they saw almost caused Merlin to retract the spell. What remained of the cat was even more gruesome under the ghostly glow. In another corner there was a pile of bones and decomposing tissue. The floor was covered in filth. "Looks like the same people clean this place that cleaned your grandfather's dungeons," the warlock remarked offhandedly to Gwaine.

Slime from the cauldron still dripped off the wall where it had been thrown, body pieces still half floated in a pool at the base of the rock, gathering in a depression of the floor.

"I didn't think the pot was that large," Percival said wrinkling his nose at the stench as they began searching the area.

Merlin shrugged, "It's a magical cauldron, there's no telling how much it could hold." He felt a tugging sensation on his psyche towards the pool, "Remind me to try and look through that stuff on our way back."

Gwaine made a face. "Okay, friend, but you'll be on your own for that."

As they explored the cavern further the men came to the conclusion that there was only the one other exit from the room.  They neared it and Merlin pulled the light back to him, deepening the shadows surrounding them. He had finally become adjusted to the unnatural coolness of the cave. As he peered around the wall into the tunnel, the sensation once again increased. It felt as if a freezing wind was blowing from the opening, but a look at the other two signaled that he was the only one to feel it. He bit back his anxiety and pressed forward with them.

The tunnel held similar aspects to main entrance, but the carvings became even more horrific. The entire passage seemed to serve as a sort of story that only darkened as they moved down it. There were no branches off of the main path, so they pushed forward. Ahead of them they could see two pillars on either side, stretching towards the ceiling. These marked the gateway into another room. From between them spilled what first appeared to be moonlight, but as they neared all three began to realize they had witnessed this glow before. Percival's eyes scanned the new cavern. Surrounded by even more ornate carvings was a swirling gray gate, held together by strong magic, but no sign of a giant or the cauldron. Along the walls were braziers, though lit with fire, there was no color to them, as if it had all been sucked out.

"Damn, looks familiar," Gwaine commented. Although not a tear, the fluctuating grays, blues, and infinite blackness was obviously the same as what they had come across on the Isle of the Blessed years before.

Merlin was brought up short as he saw it, but for another reason which his friends could not see. He fought back the wave of dizziness that threatened his mind. "Hello, Cailleach."

The ancient woman in her dark ratted cloak nodded her head. "Greetings, Emrys."

Percival and Gwaine turned to him questioningly, but noticed he was staring at the gate, seeing something they could not. They shared a concerned glance between them. "Merlin, there's no one there," The large knight commented.

Merlin smirked at his friend's words, but kept staring straight ahead. "So, this is the doorway to hell?"

"Some may call it that. Before you lies the last open gate between the worlds."

"And this is where Dyrnwch fled," he stated, already knowing the answer.

The old crone appeared to smile, though it held no joy. Her eyes shifted slowly to the bottom left corner of the gate and he followed her gaze. A stone tablet sat leaning against the edge, rune marks carved upon it. Merlin let his magical light dissipate and moved forward cautiously to inspect the writing. He rolled his eyes as he read through the cryptic prose. He sighed, "What is so wrong with actually stating things plainly?" He cast a bored glance at the crone.

"Words are used as they should be. No more, no less than what is needed to convey that which they describe."

His eyebrows rose in sardonic disbelief. "Really?" When he realized she wasn't going to respond he sighed again and read through it again. "Twice times the sacred number of the goddess in its creation shall cross. One more for the joining shall bind it. Faith restored, faith destroyed, day and night shall be as one, and the balance shall be kept with sacrifice."

"The sacred number is three, right?" Percival commented uneasily, still searching for whoever Merlin was speaking with, "So twice means six."

"And one more," Merlin said mulling over the riddle, "...Is seven."

"We take seven of us through then," Gwaine smiled proudly. Merlin and Percival looked at the rogue as if he'd grown a second head. "Seriously, you guys really need to quit over thinking things."

"Alright, Lord of the Simpletons, what does the next part mean?"

"Haven't a clue."

"Does Dyrnwch's passage count as one?" Merlin asked the Cailleach.

Much to his shock the answer was simple, "Yes."

"Six then," He pursed his lips in concentration, "Which means to come back we would need to bring him alive with us so as not to upset the balance and create a tear as Morgause did. I think."

"We should get back to Arthur and fill him in," the large knight suggested.

Merlin nodded, ready to leave the portal room. Every passing moment was pressing against his head as he knelt this close to the gate.

They backtracked to the large cavern, Merlin's head feeling clearer every step he took away from it.

Gwaine looked disgustedly at the large puddle of slime. He patted Merlin on the back, "Have at it, my friend."

The warlock winced as he moved forward; the brave knights of Camelot maintained their distance, sniggering at his predicament. Steadying himself he brought his hands up and used his magic to sift through the muck. Finally he found what was calling to him and he summoned it towards the top of the pool. A headless corpse, still clothed in ancient armor appeared. Merlin smiled gleefully and stepped back, recalling Taliesin's words. "Um… I might need some help here," he turned to the other two grinning mischievously. There was no way he was going to be the only one dealing with the stench.

* * *

 

He bit back a chuckle as he watched the two stronger men struggling with the body. He wondered briefly if they ever realized how many times he had dragged Arthur single handedly around with all the added weight, although part of their struggle was Gwaine attempting to touch as little of the body as possible. They finally reached the mouth of the cave and realized full darkness had descended upon the mountain ruins. The two men dropped the body unceremoniously away from the main campfire.

"Hey Bran, I have something for you," Merlin called out.

The servant left in charge of the head brought Bran over, though he nearly let go of him while trying not to gag on the awful stench that permeated the area.

Bran's eyes widened. "Where… How… I was in Ireland when it happened,"

"Yeah, but remember what Taliesin said, 'it was right where you left it,' probably stuffed in the bottom of the cauldron."

The head let out with a wild whooping sound causing everyone in the camp to turn and stare.

The poor servant couldn't take anymore and quickly shoved the head into Merlin's arms before running off into the darkness to lose his supper.

Arthur stood up and moved closer, attempting to discretely pinch his nose, "That smells almost worse than you did after the bog."

"What bog?" Merlin asked not recalling the incident.

Gwaine laughed, "The bog after you'd been missing a week, you were coated head to toe in that stuff, and to think the princess here actually manned up and hugged you."

Blue eyes shot open wide, his stereotypical goofy grin plastered on his face. "You hugged me?"

"You really don't remember that?" Arthur responded quizzically.

Merlin shook his head. "Nope. Wow, if I knew getting covered in filth is what it took for you to show emotion, I'd have done that more often." The warlock grinned even more and tried to open his arms wide, while still holding onto Bran.

The sour look on Arthur's face said it all, "Merlin…"

"Yes, Sire?"

Coughing against his fist Arthur looked at the body one more time. "See if you can get that cleaned up and find some way to put Prince Bran back together." The king turned on his heel and strode quickly away from the scene.

* * *

 

It was late into the night when Merlin finally slouched down next to the fire. Bran's body had been cleaned as much as possible, something the warlock was sure none of the few servants and squires with them would ever forgive him for, and the formerly decapitated knight lay in a magically induced sleep as his body and head readjusted to each other.

He glanced at Arthur, who sat awake mesmerized by the dancing flames of the campfire. "You should get some sleep."

"So should you."

Glancing around Merlin noted that everyone else appeared to be slumbering. "Eh, I'll sleep when we're done with this mess."

"You're not as young as you used to be, Merlin."

"Neither are you, My Lord," he responded with a hint of cynicism.

Arthur picked up a piece of kindling and chucked it across the fire. The two men shared a brotherly chuckle. Picking himself up, the king moved around and plopped down next to Merlin. "Gwaine was telling me that only six of us can go through this portal thing you found."

Merlin nodded, "It appears so. Who were you thinking of leaving behind?"

"Sir Tarnin for certain, we'd have to carry him with that leg. And probably Cai."

"He's not going to be happy about that."

Arthur grunted in agreement, "I know, but if something happens to us he's the one I trust most to look after my son."

The warlock turned his head and gave the king a measured look. "Growing fond of him?"

He shrugged, "Say we don't come back from this, or at least I don't…"

"Don't say that," Merlin interrupted.

Arthur held up his hand. "No, hear me out I actually have a some knowledge about these things. Guinevere is common blood, as much as she is my queen and people accept her by my side, if I'm not there, and if she is not with child, things could get ugly rather quickly I'd imagine. You are the closest blood to the throne that they might accept. If you are at her side then they should continue to accept her. For those that still believe in the purity of nobility, as my father did, even Morgana would seem a better choice, despite all she has done."

Merlin sat silently listening, appalled by the politics of the court, but he couldn't argue with Arthur's assessment of them.

"If someone were to find out about Loholt, which I fear they already have, I would worry they would take him and twist him, as Morgause did to Morgana, and if you are not there to stop it…" his voice trailed off.

"So leave Cai to do what he has done best, take care of the boy," Merlin nodded in understanding.

"Should I not return from this, I expect you to take him under your wing. He would be my blood heir and despite his circumstances he would be likely to rule when the time comes that Guinevere is no longer fit."

Merlin mulled it over in his mind. "We're going to get through this Arthur. You'll go home, healthy, and it'll be as it should be," he stated with finality, patting his cousin on the shoulder. He decided to divert the topic so as not to dwell on the what ifs, "So that leaves us, of course, Gwaine, Percival, Bedivere and Bran. Because I doubt if anything is going to stop him now."

* * *

 

Sleep finally took the men for a few scant hours before the sun began to rise. Loholt awoke first, although he was still shaken by the events from the day before, he seemed in better spirits and soon began retelling his version of events to the laughing knights as they ate a meal together. Cai and Arthur stood off to the side after breakfast arguing. Merlin could tell when the debate about whether Cai should go or stay ended with the finality of the king's orders.

Bran was jumping around like a boy, stretching and testing out his body. He relished in the sensations of being able to move on his own once again. Gwaine was eager to point out that the skin appeared stained in a sickly green tint. Bran glowered at the knight for a moment before shaking his head, "Well I don't really care at this moment, at least it's not orange."

"HEY!" Merlin protested off to the side while reorganizing his pack. With all the excitement, he hadn't had a chance or the motivation to attempt to restore his natural hair color yet.

Percival searched through his belongings and soon produced the axe Bran wielded in the Perilous Lands. Clarissant insisted he pack it along with everything else. Grinning like a cat the prince took it from him happily. With everything set to go the six men set off into the cave once more.

* * *

 

Gritting his teeth Merlin moved forward into the room first. The Caillaech was absent this time for which he was partially thankful.

"Leon once said he would ride into the mouth of hell for me, and today we do the same for him," The king began in his usual pre-battle speech as they prepared themselves for the next step.

"Yeah, but I really don't think he would have meant for it to be taken quite this literally," Gwaine quipped to break the tension, not realizing the true weight of the words.

"He did, as did I," Percival responded in a serious tone.

"As did I," Merlin echoed recalling the time before the battle for Camelot.

The other men, although not present when the words were spoken voiced their agreement to the sentiment.

Arthur puffed out his chest with a breath of pride and decided the rest of the words he planned to say weren't necessary. He took one last look over his men. He drew out his sword, spun it in the palm of his hand and walked into the veil. One by one the others followed until only Merlin was left.

He stood a moment to collect his thoughts and reached within himself to touch the bond he shared with the dragons and now Morgana through his vows and the stone. He brought his focus to narrow in on just his wife. He could sense her still asleep in the bed they shared. _'Forgive me, my love, for the anger with which we parted. I will return to you soon.'_

* * *

 

His love was warmth, it was her light. The darkness spread behind her, fading away. They danced together in the bright sunlit meadow. The child they both claimed skipping around them gaily. Crowds of warriors suddenly surrounded them and pushed him away. She tried to reach out and battle her way through, but found her feet rooted in place. She saw the veil, as it had been the night she plunged the blade into her sister's heart, and he was walking towards it, further and further away from her.

He cast a glance back, his blue eyes filled with promises as he walked through the gaping maw between the worlds. Everything went cold and silent. He was gone.

Morgana bolted upright, gasping for air. Merlin was gone, the connection they had since the wedding night a few days past had disappeared. It left her shivering, alone in her bed, clutching tightly at the stone pendant.

A knock at the door preceded George's entrance into the room, "My Lady, one of the scouts has returned. Maelgwn's forces have been spotted."

* * *

 

**_Continued in["Into Hell, Prieddu Annwn" on Fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9290443/1/Into-Hell-Prieddu-Annwn-Part-5-of-Coins)_ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Story continued in "Into Hell, Prieddu Annwn" Currently posted in full over at fanfiction.net https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9290443/1/Into-Hell-Prieddu-Annwn-Part-5-of-Coins  
> I will be working on bringing that story and the final part "Lord of Beasts" over to AO3 in the next few months.


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